


Forever Is A Long Time

by Epsilon_Church



Series: Red vs blue season 18 rewrite [1]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Knife Simmons, Knife Violence, M/M, Multi, Pain, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Past Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smoking, Unrequited Love, also before anyone asks im not using bucky in this bc hes.... actively a predator, and cronut just doesnt have enough character to justify it, background OCs - Freeform, disclaimer theres very Little concise plot other than just interpersonal drama, got real sick of rts bullshit so my canon now fuck yall, just a couple morons standin around talking, knife simmons? knife simmons., multiple POVs, my city now, past temple/biff, past yorkalina - Freeform, sarge being sarge, season 18 rewrite, simmons dad is a big bad, temple redemption arc babey, wash still has brain damage im not a pussy.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 22,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27477703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Epsilon_Church/pseuds/Epsilon_Church
Summary: If anyone had bothered to ask Tucker, Mark Temple was right where he deserved to be.There was NO good reason to risk their lives - and their status as Chorus protected individuals - to bust into a high tech prison and drag him across the universe on the off chance he "felt bad" and "made some points."Of course, no one asked Tucker.Because no one ever asked him.
Relationships: Biff/Mark Temple (Red vs. Blue), Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons, Emily Grey/Sarge, Franklin Delano Donut/Agent Washington, Kaikaina Grif | Sister/Lavernius Tucker
Series: Red vs blue season 18 rewrite [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2007820
Comments: 11
Kudos: 41





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> i said FUCK zero lives

**TEMPLE:**

You could easily pin Mark Temple as a lot of things.

Sociopathic, lazy, prone to monologuing, quick to anger…

All of which would be true, it wasn’t like he wasn’t aware of it. Everyone had their flaws and it’d just be dishonest to pretend he didn’t end up where he was because he was _Such A Great Person._

The hard truth was that Temple was a mean son of a bitch and - according to his UNSC mandated therapist - suffering from some kind of personality disorder. 

He had been cruel and cowardly and a downright dick to other people and he was going to spend the rest of his life in jail for it.

Jail wasn’t so bad.

Well, actually it _was_. It was jail. Jail sucks. And this jail was like… super space jail.

But it was warm and nobody came to ask him stupid questions at four in the morning. Nobody yelled at him about a soldier's honour or asked him how to tie their shoes for the umpteenth time. He was just left alone to read his books and watch his window - like he’d always kind of wanted - and it was everything he could possibly have day dreamed about. 

He should have been happy that Tucker didn’t kill him! This was exactly the kind of life he had always thought he deserved! 

He just only sort of really wanted to kill himself all the time.

Mark Temple had been sentenced to 47 consecutive life sentences which meant he’d have to be here even after he died. 

_So, you’re gonna dig me up after I go and stuff me back in here?_ He had asked the judge after she handed down her verdict. 

Word to the wise, don’t piss off space judges who just got done with their seventh divorce proceedings and have to pay alimony to a wife who refuses to get a job for the rest of their natural life. They tend not to like that and sometimes they sentence you to solitary confinement for a few months - because when you commit enough treason, nobody cares about you anymore! 

He could hear his mother now. _Markus! You've really fucked it up this time! You dumb bastard! I should have had that abortion!_

Yeah. His mom wasn't a nurturing person, it was part of why he was so down with enlisting right outta high school. 

_Jesus, Mary and Joseph_ that was a bad idea. You haven't really lived until an old catholic bitch yells at you for two hours straight about how enlisting with your sexually ambiguous best friend as a totally-not-just-one-dude-pining-for-the-other buddy team is against God and all _that_ junk.

Fuck.

Mark shifted in his bed, finally deciding it was time to force himself into some degree of consciousness.

_Get up._

It took a few times to get it right.

When he finally did force himself upwards he could barely make himself stand hunched over in front of the shitty mirror directly across from his bed. He had to at least brush his teeth - it wasn't like they were going to let him out into the common area to eat but it still sucked seeing a prison dentist.

_Right,_ _just pick up the toothbrush and turn on the water._ That's easy! You can do it!

He had done this oodles of times before - oodles was such a fun word. He might start saying that more - it was so easy. It was so easy that children did it. 

Mark wasn't a kid! 

He had done harder things! 

One time he watched a kid play his favorite game on his phone and didn't hit them! Piece of cake!

Mark could not do it.

He groaned, placed his head against the mirror and sighed.

Who was he kidding with all this _easy_ life bullshit? He'd never been worse off. His friends were dead - mostly because he killed them - his family would never see him again and worst of all, he was going gray.

Every day he looked more and more like that damn AI/ghost he'd used to make a bunch of morons run around on a wild goose chase. It was god laughing at him.

God had never been close with Mark, why start now?

"You look like shit."

A female voice he almost recognized floated its way into his cell from the hall.

Mark trailed his eyes across his reflection to look at the energy screen separating him from freedom.

Agent Carolina - _wait, Carolina_?

He had never hallucinated _her_ before. That was new. Was it just his guilt or did she look even _more_ tired than when he last saw her?

“C’mon. We’re leaving.”

Hah- right. _“Leaving.”_ That was… totally something Mark could do.

“Go away.”

He murmured absently, pushing his head into the mirror again.

The energy screen fizzled, whined with a sense of unhappiness and went out.

_Weird,_ Mark thought to himself as he wandered back to his nice cozy bed. _Never hallucinated that before, it’s almost like Carolina is actually here and is actually telling me she’s breaking me out of here._

Hallucination Carolina put her hand on Marks shoulder - _hey that didn’t feel very hallucination-y -_ and hefted him over her _oddly_ solid shoulder. 

She smelled like armour grease and sweat - cool, he was hallucinating smells now - and when she put her foot over the threshold the hallucination alarms really sounded like they were going off.

_SO cool_ , Mark's brain must really be scraping the bottom of the barrel if it was pulling out all the stops here.

“Don’t say anything.”

The hallucination told him before disappearing.

He had expected the hallucination to go invisible at some point - that's how a lot of hallucinations go away - he just hadn’t been expecting to watch his own hands go with her.

_Oh_ , the remaining reasonable part of Marks brain thought, _oh this is really happening. This is really a thing that is going on._

That probably should have elicited a different reaction than wild giggles from the part of his brain currently working the controls.


	2. Washingtons No Good Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> violence  
> death  
> gun violence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i used google translate for lopezs spanish because it Adds to it

**WASHINGTON:**

Wash wasn't a heavy sleeper.

He often spent hours tossing and turning, thinking hard about things and listening to his friends bitch and moan. 

Not sleeping had become part of the routine he had made himself follow.

Doctor Grey said that following routines would be good for him. As long as he could remember the basics - get up, brush your teeth, eat breakfast - he could focus on keeping a track of the details - the man with the dyed hair and the facial scarring is named Donut, Church is dead for real this time, sometimes it hurts to breathe and that's normal.

He was pretty sure that was the only good advice she had ever given him. He wasn't entirely sure that she was known for her good and sound medical advice. 

He could always be wrong. remembering things was hard.

For example, he knew that the person Tucker was yelling about was a bad person. He knew that Mark Temple had killed a lot of people and _broke_ time itself.

But he didn't quite remember what that man looked like. 

He knew he was a lot like Church - weirdly so - and Wash had complex feelings on busting him out. He broke time, tortured him and Carolina and killed their friends from Freelancer. That was bad. 

Wash hated him and everything he had done made Wash want to claw his eyes out. 

_That was something_ , he supposed, turning back to the exit door that him and Tucker had been told to guard. He still remembered he was with friends - and on good days, family - and that he trusted Carolina's judgement.

_Even if this is probably about Church._ The little voice in the back of Washs head whispered. 

Yeah.

Okay.

It's probably about Church. 

Wash adjusted his stance, trailing his eyes across the nearby horizon. It was quiet, he had had time to think, that was bad.

He whistled to Tucker, snapping him out of his self imposed rage trance.

"Hey!"

Tucker looked to him.

"What?"

"Where are the Reds?"

"What? What does that matter?"

"They're supposed to be our _ride_ remember? Have you ever known the reds to be Quiet this long? Carolina has been in there for almost 20 minutes and I haven't heard Simmons call Grif an idiot this whole time."

Tucker paused, looked around and swallowed.

"Reds are gone."

"Reds are gone."

Wash nodded.

"The Reds are gone and it's been 20 minutes."

"And we haven't been attacked _once_. We're breaking into a highly classified UNSC prison and we haven't been attacked ONCE."

"... You think they might send in something _bad_ like…"

"Like a SPARTAN? Honestly I was hoping you wouldn't say that."

Wash had only ever met _one_ Spartan - 087 - and she was scary fast.

She also kind of smelled like ginger ale but Wash was pretty sure that wasn't a SPARTAN thing and more of a her thing.

"We need to go get them don't we?"

"Stay here."

Tucker nodded and gave Wash a slight sarcastic salute.

"Don't die."

"I'll try."

Wash slid down the side of the hill they had been waiting atop of, scanning his surroundings as he made his way across the heli landing pad before skidding to a stop in front of the warthog that the Reds - mostly Sarge - had insisted they steal and drive approximately 8 feet to the Pelican they _actually_ needed to steal.

"Hey!"

Wash called out.

"Sarge??? Grif?? Simmons?"

He hesitated.

"Lopez…?"

Wash stepped closer to the warthog, pressing his hand against the engine. Still warm. Where were they?

"You lost?"

Wash turned around just in time to see the human equivalent of the flexing arm emoji heft another warthog - this one containing the bound and complaining Red team above their head and prep themselves to throw it.

Wash hit the ground running, barely dodging the warthogs front bumper as it slammed into the ground and sent the Reds rolling like shitty dodgeballs dumped out of their container by an overweight gym teacher.

Grif landed beside Washs foot, groaning and spitting a slurry of curses.

"What the FUCK is with this guy?"

Wash yanked Grif to his feet, pulling him away towards the Pelican as fast as he could.

"He's some kind of SPARTAN drop out freak!"

Great. He was _joking_ when he said SPARTAN but _apparently_ the universe had a sense of humour.

The drop out wheeled on Wash and Grif, cracking his neck as he unholstered some kind of blaster side arm from his hip.

"Move!"

Wash barked at Grif, grabbing his still bound hands and pulling as hard as he could.

Grif wasn't a fast runner - why couldn't _Simmons_ have been closer when he dodged? - and Wash hadn't been in his prime in years making their attempt to reach the Pelican all but futile.

The first blast fired from the knock off SPARTANs gun caught Wash in the side sending him to the ground like a sack of paralyzed potatoes.

"Wash!"

Grif managed to get halfway through the motion of concern before being blasted in the shin and hitting the ground just the same as Wash.

_So THAT'S why it looked like such a struggle for them to move around._ Wash realized far too late. _It's some kind of paralysis gun!_

"Hey!"

Sarge cried from where he had landed, trying to slap his hands towards a discarded shotgun. 

"Why don't you pick on someone yer own size?"

That would have been really heroic and self sacrificial if Wash didn't know that Sarge was just looking for a fight.

The Knock Off didn't seem to have ANY issues with giving Sarge a quick yet brutal death, turning away from Grif and Wash to look at the old bastard. He even put the gun back where it came from. Great.

"Sarge!"

Simmons squeaked, reaching for his leg with a shaky arm.

_Wait, how could they move?_ _Building off that, why did Simmons only seem to be able to move one side of his body?_

Wash made a weak noise and tried to move anything - even just his mouth to call Sarge an idiot.

Sarge - having fully recovered from his paralysis - hopped to his feet, grabbing his thrown aside shotgun off the ground and aiming it at the not-SPARTAN.

"C'mere! Fight me like a REAL man! Manno on Shotguno."

Great. He was going to get torn limb from limb by a drop out. Great. Just GREAT. 

"Hey!"

The Not-SPARTAN looked down at Simmons, priming his fist to punch his lights out all over again.

"Fuck you!"

Simmons slammed a knife - since when did he carry a _Knife?_ \- into the mans ankle.

_First of all, fuck you? What kind of battle cry is that?_

The man roared in pain, doubling back just enough that when Sarge did fire it caught him in the face. 

_Brutal._

Wash gritted his teeth as the not SPARTANs blood splattered across the pavement in front of them. 

Just as Wash felt his jaw unfreeze the Pelican behind him opened its loading dock door.

"Bruto."

Wash forced his eyes to look up at Lopez.

"Lo-pez?"

He forced out.

"Simmons probablemente sea inmune a la paraplejía debido a sus extremidades robóticas."

"Absolutely right Lopez! We need to get out of here before shotgun-faces friends get here!"

"Eso ni siquiera se acerca a lo que dije. Tu viejo senil."

"And look! The blues are coming!"

"¿Hay alguna razón en particular por la que Temple se parezca tanto a Church?"

"WE NEED TO GO!"

Tucker squeaked, running right past Wash into the Pelican.

"You look like Hell."

Temple helpfully mused to Wash as Carolina set him down just inside the Pelican.

Wash groaned, consciously choosing not to say anything this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lopez translations:
> 
> 1  
> gross
> 
> 2  
> simmons is probably immune to the paraplegia because of his robot limbs
> 
> 3  
> that is not even close to what i said you senile old man
> 
> 4  
> is there any particular reason why temple looks like church
> 
> also the reason why sarge is immune is because hes a red and reds dont have to comply to silly things like physics or logic


	3. Competitive Yoga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> knives  
> innuendo if you squint  
> implied past homicide
> 
> also temple in this fics theme song is line without a hook no i will not explain

**TEMPLE:**

If he absolutely had to rank the highs and lows of his week, Temple probably wouldn't put him being served tea and cupcakes by a mostly nude man with pink hair while Tucker almost obsessively tightened his handcuffs very high up on the scale. 

"How is he supposed to eat with that, Tucker?"

"He's not!"

"Then what the _hell_ did I make these cupcakes for?"

"You just do that sometimes, Donut."

Donut huffed at Tucker, making it a point to fold the tea towel he was holding extra aggressively as he walked back towards the kitchen sink.

"Is there… a reason he's only wearing an apron and boxers?"

Tucker glared at him, narrowing his already pretty narrow gaze at him instead of answering.

_Are you going to be a bitch forever?_

If Temple was like 0.3% more ballsy he'd have _actually_ asked Tucker that instead of just huffing and uncomfortably scratching his face.

"Getting scruffy there."

Tucker purred, examining Temple's uncomfortable expression.

"You'd know all about uncom-"

"Tucker!"

Donut slammed his hands down on the kitchen counter.

"If you're going to be here, make yourself useful and help me dry these dishes!"

Temple decided that the subsequent antics - involving a glowing sword being used as an air dryer and an indignant scream of curses and innuendos - were as good of a distraction as he was ever going to get and immediately began trying to knock the knife that Donut had left on the opposite side of the table off with his foot.

If there was ever a chance that Temple was good at aiming his frantic kicks at knives it had probably been reduced to flat zero after a few months in solitary with nothing to do but bash his head against the wall.

He managed to slam his foot into the chair across from him approximately seven bajillion times, knock over four plates of pink sweets and knee himself in the chest a few times before finally drawing Tucker and Donuts attention.

"What are you fucking doing?"

Tucker looked back at him, more incredulous that his standing around and talking was interrupted than anything else.

_Uhhhh…_

"Competitive yoga training."

_Nailed it._

"Oh! I love COMP Yog. Are you more of a receiver or a giver when you do partner warm ups? You look like a receiver."

Tucker and Temple made equally confused noises. Tucker was probably pretty confused about _that_ statement but Temple was more confused on whether or not Donut had just called him a bottom.

"Donut he's CLEARLY trying to get the knife you left on the table!"

"What?"

Donut seemed _completely_ blown away by that idea.

"No he wasn't."

"No I totally was but now I'm more confused on what the FUCK _you're_ talking about. Is Competitive Yoga real? I was just talking outta my ass but you've peaked my interest."

"You were going to STAB us?"

Donut looked _pissed._

"After I made you so many nice pastries?"

Temple held up his handcuffs and angrily wiggled them.

"Gee! Wonder why I might not feel so welcome!"

Donut glared at Tucker.

"He just was going to stab us!"

"If we let trying to kill us be one of the criteria for not befriending someone we'd probably have to start with David and Carolina."

"He broke time!"

Donut glared at Tucker.

"Okay! But he broke it FIRST!"

Donut glared even harder at him.

"FINE!"

Tucker walked over and angrily shoved the key from his bracelet into the handcuff lock.

"Ow!"

Temple almost instinctively pulled his hands back.

"Why do you have to be so rough?"

"Quiet!"

In the few seconds that Tucker took to take his handcuffs off Temple saw approximately 47 different ways that Tucker could kill him reflected in his eyes.

"What do you say?"

Donut was probably serious and Tucker was still armed so Temple decided not to comment on _that_ and just play along.

"Er… Thanks."

Tucker huffed, turned on his heel and stormed out of the kitchen.

"Jeez- Thought he'd never-"

Temple didn't have enough time to sit back before finding himself staring at the business end of the same knife he was kicking at a minute ago. 

"You were going to _stab_ us?"

Donuts voice was chilly like a freezer and his gaze was about as forgiving as being locked in one with a group of your friends.

When did _Donut_ get scary?

Temple swallowed.

"Uh… No- I was…"

"So you lied about stabbing us?"

"... Okay I was. But- Probably not fatally. Just- Enough that I could get out of here and run away."

"After all the hoops we had to jump through to get you out and have our _dear_ Kimball file for you to be released into Chorusian custody? _You were going to stab us?"_

"... Yeah- I uh-..."

He swallowed.

"You're lucky the UNSC even heard her out after they found out we were responsible."

"Yeah- Prob-Probably."

 _Say something cool and/or disarming_.

"I'm- sorry?"

  
  


Donut lowered the knife.

"Good!"

And just like that, Donut sat down across from him, cleaned up the knocked over cupcake mess and cut him a slice of cake.

"You do like chocolate right? I was going to make red velvet but Sarge insisted that you didn't get 'anything that belongs to the Reds."

"Yeah- Yeah chocolates good."

"Good!"

And it was good! Donut was a helluva chef - and a gracious host - but every bite Temple managed to push down felt like it could have been laced with arsenic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FERAL DONUT FERAL DONUT FERAL DONUT
> 
> also church and temple handshaking meme that says "being a bottom"


	4. We haven't had time to talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> talk of masturbation  
> uncomfortable social situations

**TUCKER:**

Storming out is a lot cooler when you actually have a plan on where to go _after_ you storm out.

That was something that Tucker had come to respect about Church, whenever _he_ stormed out he knew where he was going - granted it was just outside to scream at rocks and light a cigarette - but it was a plan. If you storm out often enough it makes sense to have a plan.

Tucker… did _not_ have a plan.

He figured he couldn’t slink back into the kitchen to grab a snack - not with Donut and _him_ \- still in there and Carolina and Wash were sparring in the gym. 

He made it a point to not get in between two heavily armed hurricanes if he could avoid it.

That left outside where he would risk contact with the Reds and his room. 

He needed to get more usual haunts and fast, it was starting to be embarrassing how many times he just pretended to be masturbating/actually masturbated in his room after a storm out. 

Tucker stopped in the hall, sighing heavily.

This was a stupid idea.

Maybe he should take up smoking and screaming at random rocks.

No.

**_That_ ** was a stupid idea.

He was FULL of stupid ideas lately. 

Stupid ideas about how to best attempt to talk to Carolina, stupid ideas on how to avoid talking to Kaikania, stupid ideas on how to deal with the consequences of Carolinas actions, stupid ideas on how to avoid thinking about Kai.

They hadn’t had time to talk.

_Sure_ , they had done a lot of talking when they were fucking up time but it had been months since then - _probably,_ time was confusing sometimes - and he had basically gone straight from worrying about Wash to trying to keep Carolina from taking it all on herself to watching Carolina and Wash cook up a half assed plan on how to bust out a _goddamn war criminal_.

Tucker stuffed his hands in his hoodie pockets, sighing once more before resuming his slinking. He wanted to punch something - _was he getting angrier?_ \- just thinking about how bullshit the last few months had been. 

If he wasn’t going outside and he wasn’t getting a snack he could probably at least say hi. 

Last time he saw her Kai was heading down to visit Doc. Doc had set up a “clinic” just beside the gym - because there were a lot of training accidents - and the gym at least had a stolen vending machine beside it. If he was lucky, Kai wasn’t there and he could at least get a snack out of his pathetic attempt to say a meager greeting to the girl he had been ghosting for FAR too long. 

\---

She wasn’t there. Small mercies.

If the emptied out vending machine was any indication, she wasn’t the only Grif to pass through at some point.

_Maybe they’re talking about me again,_ Tucker thought to himself grimly.

Fine, he decided, maybe the hurricanes have dulled down to a category one. 

Tucker pushed open the door, checking around the gym cautiously. _Huh, no sounds of death and dying._

“Tucker!”

Tucker stiffened, turning his head back towards the other side of the gym.

“Oh- hey guys.”

Wash gave him a greeting nod from the bench he had settled on.

“How are you? Haven’t seen you in a while.”

Tucker decided not to comment on the fact that they had just seen each other at lunch, he was a dick but not insensitive.

“I’m good…”

He slid out of the doorway, carefully nodding at Carolina at the water cooler. 

“Just got done chewing out Temple huh?”

Wash stood up, stretching his back as he moved towards Tuckers personal bubble.

“How’d you-”

“Would you believe me if I told you PFL taught us to _smell_ agitation?”

“100%.”

Wash laughed.

“Actually I heard arguing when I passed by the kitchen earlier.”

“When did you go to the kitchen?”

“About twenty minutes ago, Carolina wanted to practice some knife throws but I left mine… somewhere.”

Tucker cocked his head.

“Did you ask Donut?”

“I figured you wouldn’t want me busting in on you mid yell.”

He probably wouldn't. _God he was becoming Church._

“We wound up just using regular old kitchen knives we found in the dodgeball bin.”

Carolina chimed in.

“There are a lot of things wrong with THAT sentence.”

Tucker smirked.

“What part are _you_ focusing on? Because I’m on her calling the Red team misadventure waste bin the dodgeball bin.”

“It has dodgeballs in it - and oddly enough volleyballs with some of our faces on it - it's a dodgeball bin.”

Carolina tossed her paper cup in the trash bin.

“They teach you those deductive reasoning skills in PFL too?”

That earned Tucker a playful eye roll from Carolina and a sharp chuckle from Wash.

Carolina pulled a yellow Grifball t-shirt on over the sports bra she had been previously donning - _wow,_ Tucker was really on edge lately, he was only a bra away from tiddies and he didn’t even say anything - and walked up to where Wash and Tucker had stopped.

“I promised Donut I’d help him get Temple settled but, Tucker… we should talk.”

Tucker's good mood faltered before it even properly got going.

“...Oh?”

“Yeah, we haven’t had time to talk in a while.”

“Yeah.”

They hadn’t.

“Sure, any time, Carolina.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to truly understand this fic one must listen - really listen - to all of ricky montgomerys album montgomery ricky and also mister blue sky


	5. just like mom used to make

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> implied violence  
> awkward social situations  
> mention of poison

**TEMPLE:**

Carolina and Donut worked oddly well together. 

_ Huh, _ Temple couldn’t help but watch them with a rising feeling of amusement,  _ who would have thought THOSE two would be so well suited to group cooking activities. _

“We don’t cook actual meals often enough,”

Carolina mused from where she was peeling potatoes.

“I’m pretty sure I saw Tucker reheat take-out he got way back during the Chorusian conflict last week.”

“Oh don’t even get me started on Grif and Simmons.”

Donut all but shouted -  _ damn, chill. _ It's not like military food was any good, they were probably used to nonsense.

“ _ Simmons  _ too? I would have thought he was at least kind of sensible.”

“You would _ THINK!” _

“He’s just neurotic. There’s a difference between sense and neuroticism.”

Temple snickered to himself.  _ Neurotic. Heh. Good one, Mark. _

Carolina looked at Temple, narrowing her gaze at him. Maybe not a smart move to call peoples friends neurotic when they’re holding knives.

_ Uh-... the only one here that doesn’t seem to  _ actively _ want to kill you is mad, back it up. _

“Uh- Do-”

He cleared his throat, sitting forward in the chair he had pulled out from the island.

“Do you guys need any help?”

_ Jesus  _ he was off his GAME! The old Temple would have thought of something WAY more sauve! He was going SOFT.

“You can cook?”

Donut perked up, setting down the chicken he was annihilating with spices.

“Uh- yeah.”

Temple awkwardly sidled closer to them, making sure to keep his hands where Carolina could see them.

“My- my mom was a chef. She used to tell me that I’d need it at some point.”

“Well! You do!”

Donut beamed at him.

_ Maybe the earlier knife holding incident was just a hallucination… _ or _ maybe it wasn’t, can never be too careful.  _

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You can start by peeling potatoes then.”

Carolina went to give Temple the knife she was using but was stopped by Donut quickly butting in between them.

_ Nope, not a hallucination. _

“ACTUALLY! I was thinking that Temple could help me set the table first while you watch our bird.”

“It’s…  _ just _ sitting in its own juices.”

“Yes! And it's VERY important that you don’t let it sit on one side for too long or it’ll be totally randomly juiced! The juice is what makes the bird, Carolina!”

“Really.”

She sounded as unimpressed and confused as Temple felt.

“If the juice doesn’t set in right how am I even supposed to fill its guts with my secret sauce? I can’t just waste my sauce on an unevenly juiced bird!”

Temple opened and closed his mouth, deciding  _ actually, nah. _

“So, what do we need out there?”

“First! We set up the place mats! Those are in the dining room itself!”

Temple didn’t like turning his back on Carolina with a knife but he obediently followed Donut into the dining room.

By the time he walked in Donut was already setting placemats at various different seats along the absurdly long table.

“-And this is where Lopez sits!”

“The robot eats dinner with you?”

“Well- no but he loves that we invite him!”

Temple severely doubted he did but he didn’t say anything, opting instead to help him in setting down the colour coded place mats. It seemed to be going smoothly until he placed the teal -  _ aqua? _ \- mat down beside the yellow one and swiftly got his hand grabbed by Donut.

“Oh no, silly, Tucker and Sister Grif don’t sit beside each other!”

“Wh- why not?”

Donut hesitated, thinking hard.

“They just… don’t. They won’t tell anyone why but mark my words! I’ll find out yet! There isn’t a place on this rock that gossip can hide from me!”

“Well… why don’t you sit them beside each other and say I did it and you didn't notice? It’s not like their opinion of me is very high anyway and they’ll probably have to tell you SOMETHING on why they don’t like it if they  _ really _ want to upset the delicate balance of the table setting and if they don’t you get to watch them in action!”

Donut grabbed Temples shoulders excitedly - God, why did he have such a  _ STRONG _ grip? - and squealed.

“Temple you’re a GENIUS!”

“Thanks, I try.”

Was that awkward to say?

“You should wean out gossip for a living!”

Well, exploiting people's weaknesses was kind of what he did. Hell, he would even say he was better than mediocre at it and that was better than he had ever been at anything else!

“Thanks-”

Donut crinkled up his nose, pausing mid way through placing the black and yellow placemat that Temple assumed was for Washington.

“Hey,”

He turned to look at him.

“I’ve been… sort of in and out of the time continuum lately and that hasn’t been great on my memory. What did you say your first name was again?”

“Mark… Technically it’s Markus but I changed it when I enlisted, just kind of for simplicity sake you know?”

“Oh! Cool! Thats-”

Donut squeaked, interrupting whatever he was going to say.

“YOU PUT SARGE BESIDE CABOOSE.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“YES! It's a catastrophe! Sarge needs at least one red buffer between a Blue on both sides or else he gets cranky and starts raving that his food has been poisoned! The first time he had Doctor Grey over was a  _ disaster _ ! He's just lucky that she likes her men the same way she likes her women; stark raving mad and convinced they’re poisoned.”

Donut paused, deep in thought.

“Although… he is a bit soft on Caboose and he’ll probably be too busy trying to poison YOUR food to worry about it…”

“He’ll what?”

“Oh, Temple you’re a _ genius! _ We’ll use Sarges own desire to murder you against him! We’ll make a Blue-tral (Blue neutral) out of him yet!”

Temple wasn’t so sure about that - even if he liked being called a genius - but he decided not to argue anymore, instead opting to adjust the clearly fresh out of the wrapping gray placemat that Donut had set down beside him.

_ Was this for him? _

Donut had seated him beside Washington and across from Carolina at the head of the table.

He took a deep breath, picked up the gray mat and switched it with the pink place mat Donut had placed next to Tucker and Kaikania. 

As much as Tucker clearly - and probably rightfully - hated him it felt more uncomfortable sitting next to Wash.

He wasn’t sure if that meant he really was going soft or if he was just sure he stood a better chance against Tucker than Wash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also if you cant tell i have the hc that temple and church are opposing in their faith too while canonically church is jewish and practicing (at least the alpha is at the time of his first death) i hc that temple was raised deeply catholic and now considers it to be a waste of time and identifies as agonistic. 
> 
> also the idea of church being jewish and temple being catholic is funny
> 
> also  
> sarge voice  
> son blue allowed


	6. Awkward family dinner where peepaw says something racist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> mentions of poison  
> awkward social situations

**TEMPLE:**

There was something humbling about the way that Tucker watched Temple sit down beside him. 

It was hard to humble Temple - nothing like an inflated sense of self to make a man agonistic - but Tucker managed to do something that years of catholic school had never even came close to; make Mark Temple sit down and shut up.

He was almost impressed.

Tucker seemed to have a lot of things over Temple - height, combat skills, eyesight, etc. - but it did comfort him to know that for all the steely glares he would catch out of the corner of his eye Tucker was just as avoidant as he was when it came to talking about things. 

_ So,  _ Temple thought to himself as he watching a large woman with curly brown hair and mismatched clothing sit down,  _ thats the girl he’s got himself in knots over. _

She was good looking, he would give Tucker that.

Temple had to quickly shy away from looking at her, reminding himself that Tucker had every intention of gut stabbing him and serving  _ him _ like a chicken dinner.

“Dinner smells good!”

Wash settled at the end of the table, smiling at Donut as he flitted in and out of the room, adding more random dishes he had made Temple and Carolina help him make earlier.

“Oh, thank you David! I really couldn’t have done it without Carolina and Temple.”

“Oh sure you could’ve youre an excellent cook Donut.”

Carolinas voice cut through Temple like a knife. How long had she been standing behind him? Was she planning to drown him with that water pitcher she was holding.

“Probably! But it was nice to have help!”

Carolina smiled, pouring Temple and Tucker each a glass of water.

“Temples got more water than me.”

Tucker muttered to himself, glaring at the glass like it was its fault that it didn’t catch enough water.

“You can have mine.”

Temple tried.

“I don’t want your charity.”

He snapped back.

_ Oh-kaaay then. Gonna be a bit harder than I thought. _

Temple didn’t take his eyes off his plate until Donut slid in with the bird and set it down right in front of him.

“There we go! Sorry if its not up to snuff,  _ somebody _ let the northwest corner soak for a few seconds too long - not pointing fingers.”

“What even is the northwest corner of a chicken, Donut?”

Carolina settled down in her seat, seemingly more amused to be accused of attempted birdicide than anything else.

“Ah, well. First times are never perfect.”

Donut sighed before settling down in his seat.

Temple swallowed, watching Sarge across from him as he practically ripped the chickens leg off and dropped it onto his plate roughly. 

“Hey,”

Temple leaned to his right, pressing himself closer to Donut.

“You were… kidding about the whole poison thing right?”

“What poison thing?”

Donut said far too loudly.

“SSSH-”

Temple clapped his hand over Donuts mouth, startling both himself and Donut.

It was, sadly, too late.

“Poison?”

Kaikania stopped mid way through pouring a metric ton of gravy over her potatoes.

“I didn-”

Temple held up his hands, trying the good old fashioned  _ look at me, I’m pathetic  _ tactic.

“Oh, Temples worried that Sarge wants to poison him!”

Donut didn’t need to be so fucking HELPFUL all the time.

“Es una preocupación válida.”

If Lopez could roll his eyes he would.

“Lopez is right!”

Sarge shot up, slamming his hands roughly down onto the table.

“I’ve tolerated this Blue forgive and forget mentality for a whole week and NOW I’m a poisoner?”

“No I- S’joke!”

“Your sense of humour doesn’t always land, Temple.”

Tucker seemed to be thrilled to jump at any chance to both get out of sitting beside Kai and dunk on Temple. He practically shot out of his seat the second he saw Sarge prepare to move, it was like his brain was on a timer that just went off.

“Was breaking time itself fun? Or was the whole freelancer freezer the joke?”

“Uh-”

“Tucker!”

Carolina barked.

“Sit down!”

“Sarge, if you don’t sit DOWN-”

Washs hand was quickly slapped away.

“NO! I don’t KNOW why YER so gungho about this, if ANYONE should be pissed it’s YOU!”

Washington stood up, forcing Sarge back into his seat as he did so.

“DON’T tell me what I should feel and what I should do. Me and Carolina have talked-”

“Oh! You and Carolina decide for us ONCE again! I see!”

Tucker hissed, the blue markings on his face glowing slightly - that was neat but intimidating.

“Care to let any of us IN on WHY you two are acting so COOL about this? Huh?”

“THATS ENOUGH!”

Carolina slammed her hands down, effectively silencing the whole table - except for Grif who had decided the chicken wasn’t poisoned and continued eating until Simmons slapped his arm. 

“If you WANT to know why you can just TALK to me! That’s what FAMILIES do and that’s what we are!”

“FAMILIES tell each other things without fucking NEEDING TO BE ASKED!”

Tucker pushed away from the table, glared at Temple and stormed out.

“I’m also storming out!”

Sarge slammed his hands down and stormed out, making a point to storm out in a different direction than Tucker.

“That went well.”

Temple sighed.

“Shut up, Temple.”

Wash hissed as she settled back in his seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lopez says "its a valid concern"


	7. York

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> past character death  
> loss  
> past torture  
> unrequited love

**TEMPLE:**

The rest of the meal was eaten exclusively in stony cold silence.

Lopez was the first to leave, followed quickly by Wash and Donut. Simmons stayed until Grif had picked half the chicken down the bone and Kai only hung around long enough to finish the rest of it.

Pretty soon it was just Temple poking at his untouched chicken scraps and Carolina who never ceased to unease.

“Why did you come for me?”

Temple finally said, deciding he was too social a creature to die without knowing.

“Are we talking then?”

“Yeah, I uh… think I have a right to know.”

Carolina didn’t say anything for a long time.

“If it's about that AI - Church. If it's about Church, I’m not gonna be your replacement Church or anything-”

She cut him off before he could finish wherever he was going with that thought.

“It’s not about Church.”

He believed her. That surprised him.

“Then- what is this about?”

“It's about…”

She sighed.

“It’s about a friend of mine. His name was York.”

“Freelancer?”

“Yeah.”

She took a deep breath before drawing a lighter out of her hoodie pocket and setting it down on the table.

“Wash said something to me a while ago about how I didn’t need to let go of the past to have a future. And that got me thinking about what my past meant, what letting go meant.”

Temple cautiously moved to the chair closest to her on the left side of the table.

“Yeah?”

“You are a part of my past, Temple. If I had been a different person when we met, none of this would have happened. We could have even been friends.”

“Well. I wouldn’t say none of this… a lot of it’s on me.”

“Yeah, but the way I treated you sim troopers - how I treated all of the Reds and Blues I encountered - that  _ is _ on me. I’ve learned that letting go and healing from the things you’ve done is a lot of hard choices.”

“So… what? You forgive me?”

“No,”

It was firm, but not harsh. 

“I don’t forgive you.”

“Right.”

“But I  _ do _ understand you and… that… _ that  _ can be a start. I can’t forgive what you’ve done or the pain you’ve caused me and the people I love but I know that I caused  _ you _ pain. And I would be lying if I said I hadn’t considered why you did the things you did. The Project didn’t just hurt you or the sim troopers, it was hurting  _ us _ too. The people in Freelancer were all hurting. Me, Wash, C.T, North, South…  _ York _ .”

“...”

Temple wanted to say something but couldn’t think of what.

“My friend, York, he understood that before I did and when he tried to show me I rejected him. Him and I… we left a lot of things unsaid.  _ Hell _ , me and Church left a lot of things unsaid and I don't want another person to die without me getting to say something to them, even if they haven’t been kind to me.”

“That's an understatement.”

Temple sighed collapsing back into his chair.

“Yeah it is. You did HORRIBLE things, Temple. Horrible, horrible monstrous things. You  _ killed _ people I knew, that I trusted. People I didn’t get to say things to.”

She took a deep breath, held it for a few seconds and let it go.

“But I killed someone you loved too and you're not the only one. Freelancer took and took and took and we threw away your lives like they were NOTHING and they weren’t nothing.  _ You _ weren’t nothing.”

Temple thought long and hard before speaking again.

“You loved him didn’t you?”

“Huh?”

“York.”

She didn’t respond.

“People only do things like this because of someone they love, you don’t just make a full 180 without someone you’re doing it for.”

“Yeah.”

She finally said, putting her hand on the lighter.

“I did. I never told him.”

“Yeah,”

Temple put his hands on his head and rested his elbows on the table.

“If it makes you feel any better, I never told him either.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slaps my hands all over yorkalina*


	8. Lets talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> unhappy endings to relationships  
> mourning  
> past character death  
> fat jokes  
> awkward social situations

**TUCKER:**

Tucker spent longer trying to cover the hole he wound up punching into the wall than he did actually finding, punching and realizing what he had done to the wall.

"Sick hole dude."

Tucker whipped around, coming FAR too close to accidentally headbutting Kaikania in the face.

"That your hole?"

_Relax, it's Kai. Don't… Dont blow it._

"Nah, I just found it."

"Niiiiiice."

An awkward silence fell over the two of them, weighing on Tucker like an ungodly heavy weighted blanket.

"So. You uh-"

He tried.

"You wanna talk?"

She sounded so confident, so ready to talk. _Had she been planning this?_

"About-"

"Well we could talk about the hole you just _found_ in the wall."

Tucker didn't want to talk about that. He was pretty sure he could still hear Temples smarmy self assured purr of a voice ringing in his ear if he closed his eyes.

But, talking about the other thing didn't sound good either.

"Or…?"

"We could talk about the other thing."

Right.

"What if we just eat the ice cream sandwiches Wash hides in the back of the freezer and make fun of people we know?"

"Yeah,"

She finally said.

"That works too."

\---

“I’m serious! Dexter really did used to have a pet snail named Junior!”

They had settled down on the roof of the Reds base/home, having stolen both Washs sandwiches and Carolinas glasses - for later mocking purpose of course. It was kind of nice just sitting and overlooking the Iris inhabitants go about their business.

“What? So now Junior is a bad name?”

Tucker leaned closer to her, mockingly sneering at the implication.

“For a snail!”

Kai put her hand over Tucker's face, shoving him back down into his lawn chair.

“Can i not make a ‘my brother is fat and slow’ joke without you getting butthurt?”

Tucker smirked, trying to suppress his laughter.

“I’ll be sure to not tell Grif that you did.”

“Oh I’m sure he’ll at least THINK about putting some effort into MAYBE standing up and talking to me about it.”

“You should be shaking in your boots right now, that’s a very serious threat. He’s not fucking around anymore.”

That earned him a light playful slap to the thigh.

“Oh shut up.”

She laughed.

“Make me.”

That came out way more sexually charged than he meant it to. 

Shit.

Weighted blanket silence once more fell over the two of them, sending them back into the uncomfortable stage of not talking to each other that Tucker had done so much to work away from.

“... I think we have to talk about it.”

Kaikania finally said.

“Yeah, think we do.”

“You wanna go first?”

“Probably should.”

He didn’t. 

“So,”

She finally sighed, realizing Tucker had left the ball firmly in her court.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“Yeah. Kinda have.”

“Kind of a dick move you know?”

Tucker sighed, tossing his latest wrapper aside haphazardly.

“I know. But to be fair I’ve been avoiding Carolina too.”

“Yeah I got that much from dinner.”

“That obvious?”

“Dunno how it could be MORE obvious, dude.”

Yeah, he had been kind of a dick.

“Think I should talk to her?”

“Hey! Me first!”

Tucker sighed.

“Right.”

That was fair.

Alright, here goes nothing.

He took a deep breath, steeled himself and spewed metaphorical word vomit all over her.

“I’msorrythatIdidn’ttalktoyouandthatIwassuchadickaboutwhenweweretal-”

“Whoa dude! Chill! _Slow down!”_

Right! Slower this time!

“I’m sorry that I didn’t… talk to you for a bit. I’m… not used to feelings and rejection - especially when it’s on me.”

“Really? _You're_ not used to rejection?”

“Okay fine! I’ve been rejected a lot. Just… not when it MATTERS.”

“Right. And it did.”

“Yeah,”

He slumped forward in his seat, letting his hands fall between his knees.

“It did. Didn’t realize it until I properly fucked it up but… listen, the last person that MATTERED. They uh… they’re…”

“Church?”  
  


Tucker felt his face go hot.

“ _Whhhhat?_ Pssh- nah.”

He waved his hand dismissively. Probably TOO dismissively.

“Yeah dude. Come on, there’s NO way you’re not talking about Church.”

She had him pegged. Was it that obvious?

“Okay fine. Church. Not- not Epsilon though. _Church_ Church.”

“Are they really that different?”

Tucker made a non committal noise.

“Yes and no. But that’s not important. Church was about Tex and Tex was… well. Tex, you met her.”

“Yeah, she was hot.”

“Smoking.”

“And Epsilon… jeez. Epsilon. Epsilon was complicated and it was just nice to talk to Church - even if he wasn’t quite Church - sometimes. He was great but he wasn’t _Church_ Church.”

“If you say Church enough it doesn’t sound like a word.”

“Never does.”

He rubbed his face, pulling absently at a stray piece of hair that had somehow escaped his braids.

“But talking with you. It was different. Easier than Church had ever been and I got… I dunno. I got scared, started acting like myself. Not me now but definitely still me.”

“Yeah. You were a dick.”

“Yeah, I was. By the time I realized it, you were done. You had every right to be done too. I’d have punched me, hell, I’d punch myself in the face even if I hadn’t been a dick, I kinda deserve it sometimes.”

“Yeah you do.”

She smiled, relaxing her body forward.

“I’m sorry Kai and… and I know that doesn’t make it all better or anything but for what's it worth. I’m sorry and… and I’d like to be friends again.” 

She took a long time to digest that, clearly thinking long and hard.

“Tell you what,”

She said finally.

“If you promise to not be such a dick anymore and buy me a beer we can call it even okay?”

He nodded.

“Sounds good to me.”

“And apologize to my girl Carolina! She deserves better!”

“Tch- yeah, she does.”

“Tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow.”

He agreed, handing her another ice cream sandwich.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you cant tell im a good ol fashioned OG fan who really likes BGC


	9. Hey yourself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> sparring violence  
> awkward social situations

**TUCKER:**

Carolina wasn't hard to find. She was always up first thing in the morning practicing something or rather.

The only problem was that Tucker had to wake up before 3 PM.

The walk to the gym was like walking through foot tall snow while being simultaneously on fire and also dead.

"Hey."

Tucker yawned, pushing open the gym door.

Carolina stopped mid way through the motion of slamming a staff into a nearby punching bag.

"Oh. Hey yourself."

She set the staff down, smiling awkwardly at him.

"You're up early."

Tucker grumbled slightly.

"It's your fault."

"It is?"

"Yeah."

A few moments passed before Carolina finally spoke. Having other people break the silence was becoming a pattern.

"How is it my fault?"

"We need to talk."

"Alright,"

She reached for a nearby secondary staff. 

"Then we can talk while we train."

Tucker groaned.

"Do I have to?"

"It's good for you."

She tossed him the staff.

"Whenever me and Wash need to talk about something we simultaneously try our best to kill each other."

"Have I mentioned how  _ insane _ you two are?"

Tucker grumbled, kicking off his shoes and stepping onto the mat.

"So,"

Carolina began, circling Tucker.

"What do we need to talk about?"

"How I blew up at you last night."

Tucker stepped away from her, falling into a counter clockwise pattern around her clockwise rotation.

"It happens."

Carolina lunged forward, barely giving Tucker enough time to put his own staff between it and his head.

"Ha- whoa- Yeah-"

Tucker jumped back, thoroughly woken up now.

“Guess-”

Carolina smiled devilishly before spinning the staff in her hand.

“Is this an apology or…?”

“If I say that it is, will you promise to go easy on me?”

“No but I might not tell Wash you were the one who stole his ice cream sandwiches.”

Tucker decided that was as good as he was getting.

“Then I’m so-”

Carolina didn’t even let him finish, leaping across the distance between them and slamming her staff into his ankles sending him down like a jenga tower of displaced aggression.

Tucker groaned, gripping his chest as he tried to catch his knocked away breath. 

“Ah son of a-”

“Apology accepted.”

Tucker looked up, taking a few seconds to process Carolina's hand extended towards him.

“That’s what families do. Sometimes we fight, it happens.”

She sounded so sincere, it was hard to believe that she was the same woman he had met those years ago.

“Right,”

Tucker gripped her hand tightly.

“They also do this.”

He yanked on her hand as hard as he could, pulling her down on top of him.

“AH! TUCKER!”

She squeaked, kicking him in the shin as she pushed herself away from him and onto the mat beside him.

“Where do these bastards keep their-”

The door pushed open, startling both Tucker and Carolina to their feet.

A very bedraggled and visibly underslept Temple stared at the two of them like a deer in the headlights. 

Tucker hadn’t realized it before - probably because he was busy trying to kill him - but Temple was  _ a lot _ like Church. Every part of the basic layout of what makes a Church was there; a scraggly beard, eye bags, diminutive frame and body hair that you could easily coat in wax and rip out while someone slept. It was really only the startling green eyes and badly healed over broken nose and complete lack of body fat that separated the two of them.

“Sup.”

Temple squeaked out.

“Sup.”

Carolina mimicked.

“Just uh- looking for the-”

Temple swallowed, relaxing slightly.

“Uh… Grif said there was… a storage room for snack food.”

“Damn. Grif told you about the snack room? You must have been REALLY irritating.”

Tucker purred, raising his eyebrow.

“I… uh. I make him uncomfortable.”

“Fuckin wonder why.”

Tucker rolled his eyes, remembering the way that Temple had looked at Grif the first time he saw him - and how he still did sometimes.

“It's down the hall, first door on the left.”

Carolina put her foot between Tucker and Temple as she spoke. She clearly thought Tucker was going to throw something at him.

“Thanks.”

Temple muttered, quickly ducking back into the hallway.

“You… don’t actually forgive him do you?”

Tucker leaned forward, trying to look at her face.

“No. It takes a lot not to punch him in the jugular.”

“Then why is he here?”

“...”

Carolina sighed, stepping back so she could look at Tucker more comfortably.

“It’s not for him, Tucker. It’s for me - for us really. I think it’s good for us to let go of things, understand things, the people we - mostly me - left behind. You sim troopers are the same after all. Can you really tell me that you don’t understand? After everything PFL and UNSC brought to your life?” 

Tucker didn’t need to say anything. Of course he understood. Why wouldn’t he? PFL had used  _ him _ like cannon fodder too. He was thrown into a make believe war just for shits and giggles and people he cared about - people he loved - had died because of it.

“I don’t forgive him, Tucker, I don’t know if I can but… I am choosing to let go of some things.”

Tucker nodded.

“Yeah. That's good enough for me, for now.”

Carolina smirked.

“Good,”

She bent down to grab her dropped staff.

“Then what do you say we have a  _ proper _ sparring session this time?”

Tucker groaned.

Did he really have a choice? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *dabs*   
> another song for this fic is "my heart is buried in venice" by ricky montgomery,,,,, basically listen to ricky montgomery


	10. space twinkies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> eating  
> self doubt  
> past death

**TEMPLE**

Temple found the door easily enough, it wasn’t like it was particularly hard to find. It was the only door open and riddled with crumb coated finger prints.

What  _ was _ a problem was finding Grif already approximately five fingers and seven inches deep in a box of cheese balls seated in the centre of the room.

“Hi.”

Temple tried - because talking was going SO well for him so far.

Grif made a non committal noise, grunting slightly as he shifted his weight to the left side of the room - away from Temple.

That was fair he supposed.

He was just here because he was hungry, he had barely eaten anything at dinner last night and breakfast wasn’t for a few hours. He wasn’t even sure if he was GOING to attend any future meals with the Reds and Blues so it just made sense to scrounge up whatever he could now.

Temple slunk his way to a corner where someone had stacked approximately a bajillion boxes of Space Twinkies and sat down. He tried to make himself as small and as unobtrusive as he could but he had a feeling it was hopeless to do so; he was eating food and it was not food that Grif was closer to than him. That was a high crime.

Even so, he tried to stay quiet as he tore open the package closest to him and began eating. 

“You act weird around me.”

Temple turned to look at Grif - still sitting comfortably in his little corner.

“I- I do?”

Of course he did, he knew he did. 

It wasn’t even like it was entirely fair - he didn’t even look much like Biff, it was just the armour that threw him off when they met. Just the armour. And that’s all it was, armour. Armour was off here! There was no reason for him to act weird around him.

It was just that… he did kind of act weird around him anyway.

“Well, weirder than you do with everyone else.”

“I don’t act weird. You guys are the weird ones.”

That was… kind of true.

“Okay, yeah but come on.”

“You uh... Remind me of someone I knew.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s dead now.”

“You kill him?”

“Caroli-...”

He wasn’t sure why he stopped himself but he did. He wasn’t even sure what there was to hesitate about. That was how it happened. That was what all of this was about. 

It… just didn’t feel  _ fair _ anymore.

And, if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure. Maybe he had made something up along the way. 

“No.”

He finally decided.

“I didn’t. But, he is dead now.”

A long silence fell over them, broken only by the sounds of them chewing.

“You uh- want a Space Twinkie?”

Temple finally tried, holding up the final one from the packaging.

“Its uh- bit smushed but it’s still good.”

“Slide it over.”

Temple slid the twinkie over, taking it as progress when Grif took it and devoured it like he was convinced Temple hadn’t poisoned it.

It was possible that he was just hard to kill and a big fan of food but Temple decided progress is progress even if it’s in your head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slaps my hands down*  
> different iterations of the grif and temple dynamics are my SHIT


	11. So you've discovered some potential drawbacks to the industrial military complex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> panic attacks  
> death threats  
> self doubt  
> self harm  
> violence  
> past death  
> religious imagery

**TEMPLE**

It was about three hours into Temple and Grifs spectacular binge eating escapade when Temple finally decided if he ate anything else he'd probably die. Grif was just unbeatable.

He gave Grif a non committal and easy wave on his way out of the room, making sure not to look too hard at him lest Grif realize he was looking too hard at him. 

He wandered the hall randomly for a while before pushing open the door to the outside and stumbling out into the sunshine like Adam and Eve bumbling into the Garden. 

Although, Temples entrance into the light was significantly less important and ultimately just how he would like to picture himself.

Once he got his bearings, Temple looked around the  _ far too bright  _ field.

He hadn't come out here in a while. 

Or… ever.

He wasn't good at "outside."

"HEADS UP!"

Sarges distant cry was followed by a loud crash and a series of bangs.

_ That _ would be another reason he hadn't been out here.

Sarge, in contrast to Temple and every sane person alive, loved to be outside.

Temple sighed. There was pretty much nothing  _ else _ to do but talk to people - apparently - and Sarge was  _ technically  _ a person he could talk to.

If… Sarge could be called a person.

He wasn't entirely sure about that one.

He just hoped he was feeling particularly old and sore today and didn't happen to have a shotgun on him.

It didn't take long to find Sarge. 

He was easily spotted because of three simple factors; he was the only person minus Caboose who never seemed to take off his armour, Washington was screaming at him and - maybe most obviously- he was riding a tank.

"SARGE! GET  _ DOWN!" _

_ " _ WHAT I CAN'T HEAR YOU!"

"I SAID GET DOWN!"

"I STILL CAN'T HEAR YOU! I'M GOING TO GET DOWN SO I CAN HEAR YOU!"

"WHA-oh fuck it."

Wash turned around, spotting Temple at the top of the overlooking hill.

"Wh- But-"

He sounded confused.

"Hi!"

Temple waved.

"... Temple. I'm uh-"

"I know who you are."

Wash huffed.

"I- I knew that! I just like saying my name!"

_ Jesus christ.  _ He was NOT good at this.

Wash turned back to Sarge.

"Sarge-"

"What's  _ he _ doing here?"

Right. Temple forgot Sarge probably hated him most.

"Hi-ya Sarge, can I call you Sarge?"

"THAT'S _ SARGE _ TO YOU!"

"O-kay, Sarge."

Temple cautiously slid down the hill, making sure to seem as off his game and as non threatening as he could - which wasn't hard - when he stood up beside Wash.

Sarge had been easy to manipulate the last time they met. It was honestly pretty simple to get inside the guys head, he didn't have a lot going on in there. All you had to do was give him a war and a gun and he'd follow you like a dog. He was a lot like Surge in that way.

Right now, however, he seemed different. It was almost like he had  _ faced consequences  _ and  _ grown _ .

Gross.

"Nice tank you got there."

"Oh she's a beauty, wanna see the gun up close?"

Sarge never missed a beat.

"Sarge."

Wash warned.

"Nah- nah it's fine. It's how Sarge is, death threats are just part of his vernacular! If anything it means we're bonding!"

"DON'T speak for me! You're not getting in my head again!"

Sarge barked, thoroughly shutting down Temples attempt at casual.

"I- I wasn't-"

Sarge grabbed Temples collar roughly, yanking his face flat against his visor.

"I've tasted the Blue devils sweet tea before and I can't be bought so easily this time!"

"I'm not trying to buy you!"

Temple glanced to his side. Wash was apparently  _ far _ more fascinated by the dirt on his shoe than the fact that Sarge was probably two seconds from killing him.

_ Right, on your own. _

"Actually-"

Sarge made a low growl noise.

"Hmm??"

"Actually- I- I was trying to buy you! You're right! But  _ clearly _ you're too smart for that now! I should have never crossed you! I'm so sorry! But- you- you sure showed me! I mean hell it's a  _ miracle  _ I ever got you to do anything before!"

Sarge didn't say anything.

"Clearly! You- you were under some kind of stress! You would never have- have listened to me - a dirty Blue - if you weren't!"

_ Hey, God, are you there? It's me, Markus. I'd like to start this prayer with a few apologies… _

Sarge let Temple drop.

"Absolutely right!"

He sounded… _ embarrassed. _

Was he still _ ashamed of himself? _

_ Christ.  _

Was Temple supposed to be feeling like that too?

Sarge huffed, puffing himself up.

"In fact! I'm so on the top of my game now I'm going to go--- Run laps!"

Sarges exit -  _ er… _ totally not a conversational exit - was quick and straight to the point.

"Nice."

Wash said dryly before straightening up and walking off.

And so, Temple was alone.

He took a deep breath, composed himself a bit and collapsed to the ground with his hands entangled with his hair.

  
  


" **_FUCK!"_ **

He wasn't even sure what he was yelling for. This was  _ bullshit! _ How many times were these people going to almost kill him? Every goddamn day was a  _ migraine! _

"Fuck!"

He slammed his head into the ground so hard he felt his brain rattle around.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

_ Was this what he was supposed to do?? Was Carolina punishing him this whole time? _

_ Did he Deserve to be punished like this _ ??

Temple stopped, feeling his veins freeze.

_ Did  _ anyone _ deserve to be punished like this? _

Did the people he killed deserve to spend their final days wondering  _ when _ \- not if - death would come? Did he really take things too far?

Was...

Was it possible that maybe this - this whole thing - was anger pointed at the wrong people?

If Carolina was serious about the Freelancers had all his bullshit just been  _ fucking nonsense? _

Did….Did Tex and Carolina even mean to kill Biff?

Was it possible he was misrepresenting some things in his head?

The  _ problem _ was the UNSC - that was set in stone - but… was…

Was he... using the Freelancers as some kind of scapegoat? Were they actually part of the same machine he was? Was he  _ missing _ something? 

_ Was he really just… _

"Fuck."

Temple pressed his forehead to the ground, closing his eyes.

_ “fuck.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and i said "make that bitch suffer"


	12. Heart meet Head

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> past knife violence  
> implied past childhood neglect

**SIMMONS**

“So, what do you think he's doing this time?”

Grif was always ready with ice breakers - and jaw breaker candy but that was less important.

“Probably something we don’t understand.”

Simmons shrugged.

“Thought you had Sarge-lish down.”

Grif scoffed as he sat down on the rock beside Simmons.

“First of all its Sargenese.”

Simmons shot back, keeping his eyes on where Sarge was running laps around Wash.

"Oh I'm sorry, I forgot how much of a kiss ass you were."

Simmons snorted, swatting at Grifs stomach.

Grif smirked, resting his head on Simmons shoulder.

It was just something he did sometimes. It was casual - lazy really - but every time he did it it made Simmons' heart skip a beat.

It was hard to tell if he was just overthinking or… 

Simmons shook the thought out of his head. _So what if Grif only started doing this after he came to rescue them from Temple?_ _They were just bros._

"Can I see it?"

Grif yawned.

"HWhat??"

Simmons squeaked out.

"I mean sure- like do- … What- what do you want to see?"

"The knife you used to stab that drop out last week,"

Grif raised his eyebrow.

"What did you think I meant?"

Simmons felt his cheeks turn from red to crimson.

"N-Nothing! That's what I thought!"

"Then why did you-"

Simmons shoved him off his shoulder, quickly grabbing the knife he kept strapped to his ankle and yanking it out of its holster.

"HERE IT IS!"

"Sick,"

Grif held out his hand to Simmons.

"Can I hold it?"

Simmons nodded, setting the knife in his hands carefully.

"Be careful, it's sharp."

"I know what a knife is dude."

"I uh- took it from my dad."

Simmons ducked his head away from Grifs gaze.

"Your dad huh?"

Grif examined the blade.

"Your dad have a lot of hunting knives?"

Simmons involuntarily hissed.

"Don't get me started."

"Alright."

Part of Simmons was dying to talk about his dad but that was just his usual state of being. If there wasn’t a nagging thought that he should talk about his dad and how uncomfortable sitting in his office while him and the guy with the southern accent argued about something on a day to day basis felt he would probably check himself into a hospital. 

"You've still got some blood on it."

Grif handed back the knife with a half cocked smirk.

"Sarge says blood on knives adds character."

Simmons huffed, tucking the knife back into its sheathe.

"And you'd do whatever Sarge said huh?"

Simmons didn't respond, he didn't have a good retort to that. It was true.

He sighed, leaning back on his hands.

"I'm gonna go see what Sarge is doing."

"Aight. I'm gonna take a nap."

Simmons played absently with his shirt collar as he made his way towards Sarge. 

That was weird.

It almost felt like he was…  _ attracted _ to _ Grif?  _

Then again, it was probably just in his head. After all, he had felt that way around Grif loads of times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the question come out  
> does simmons dad is bad?


	13. Natural ginger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> food

**WASHINGTON:**

Giving up is the final - and inevitable - stage of Sarge-Bullshit grief.

Eventually the drip finally stops and all that.

It took less than twenty minutes for Wash to finally decide  _ actually fuck this _ and head inside to the kitchen, that was a new record. There was a time when he could put up with it for over an hour before blowing up and breaking something.

If he was being honest with himself, it was probably the promise of Donut feeding him sweets if he was good that made him cut it short so soon.

"Hey!"

Donut - true to form - waved Wash in to taste his latest sugary concoction the second that he spotted him out of the corner of his eye.

"C'mere! I could use a second opinion on this!"

Wash smirked, taking his time coming up behind Donut before wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his face in Donuts neck.

"Oh!"

Donut chirped.

"Hello, David!"

"Mmm."

Wash rumbled slightly.

"Hi."

“You alright?”

“Sarge is running laps again.”

“Ohhhh. Yeah.”

Donut chuckled, patting Washs head lightly.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Wash rumbled once more, planting a lazy kiss on Donuts jaw before turning his attention to the batter he was working on.

“What are we making?”

“Well, it’s coming up on the anniversary of Carolina becoming a part of the family-”

“When was that? When did she become a part of the family?”

“Oh! The day that she and Epsilon Church met!”

“THAT’S when she became part of the family?”

Donut made a non committal  _ pshaw  _ noise.

“So she was a bit rough around the edges.”

“You weren’t even there when they met.”

“No! But Caboose told me all about it!”

“Caboose.”

Wash tried to suppress the incredulousness rising in his voice.

“Yeah... it was a  _ little _ disoriented.”

Wash chuckled.

“So, what does that all have to do with this?”

“I’m making her a cake!”

“Red velvet?”

He asked, dipping her finger in the red batter and swiping it through quickly before Donut could stop him.

“Yes and _ getyourfingersoutofthere, David! _ ”

Wash did as he was told and promptly brought his batter coated finger to his lips.

“Mm,”

He began after sucking it clean.

“It’s nice!”

“You don’t think it’s too sweet?”

“Oh it's a little sweet, sure but Carolina is tough enough to handle it and she could use a little sugar in her diet.”

Donut grinned, dipping his head slightly as he resumed stirring.

“Sarge said that I’m not allowed to make Temple anything  _ red _ but Carolina has red hair so I think he’ll allow it.”

“She gets it from her father.”

“She what?”

Donut stopped mid stir to stare at Wash.

“The director-”

Wash nodded.

“Natural ginger. ALL the brooding dark hair aesthetic is just hair dye.”

“Does that mean... Church?”

“Well, I don’t know about the ALPHA because of his body being stolen but… Epsilon for sure.”

Donut took a few seconds to process that.

“Huh.”

“You’re just dying to talk about that aren’t you?”

“IT JUST FEELS LIKE SUCH AN IMPORTANT FACT TO HIDE!”

“I don’t think he was hiding anything. I mean, he did wear armour most of the time - if projecting armour counts as wearing it.”

“BUT A GINGER! CHURCH WAS A GINGER!”

Wash laughed despite himself.

“Yup. The Director and subsequently Church were natural gingers.”

“I just thought that- that she got it from Allison!”

“Nope. LONG line of blondes on that end.”

“Just like you!”

Wash didn’t have the heart to tell him his hair was bleached, he had had enough shock to his system.

“Mmhmm. Long line of natural blondes.”

“You know  _ Simmons _ is a natural blonde too but he  _ insists _ on destroying it with all that red dye, I think he’s trying to impress Sarge. It could also be that he’s self conscious about it because he thinks it looks like his father…”

Donut was still talking about something or rather but Wash couldn’t be bothered to pay attention, opting instead to nuzzle his face into his neck and close his eyes, letting his thoughts drift.

“David?”

Donut snapped his fingers in front of Washs face.

“You listening?”

“No.”

Wash answered honestly.

“But you can keep talking if you want.”

“Alright!”

Donut didn’t seem to need more than that, resuming his gushing.

It was just nice to sit and listen to him talk - even if he wasn’t really listening.

Of course, however, everything must come to an end and Washs bliss was interrupted by the sound of crashing and loud swearing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sofmt


	14. Leonard Church, I presume

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cw  
> past character death  
> mourning   
> self doubt  
> hallucinations

**TEMPLE**

To say that coming out from a mostly self induced panic attack is an emotion that can only be described as liminal would be an understatement.

Coming out of a panic attack is much more akin to having been shot a lot and wandering around randomly trying to figure out what to do next - which was what Temple was currently doing.

He had managed to make his way back inside but it was disorienting coming in the wrong entrance and finding himself in a hall stacked full of shelves carrying random nick nacks and bullshit he didn’t recognize.

“What the fuck?”

Temple pushed his body forward to a nearby shelf, immediately focusing his gaze on a discarded and oddly placed blue helmet.

“What is this shit doing here?”

It looked old -  _ mark three? Two? Hard to tell _ \- and well worn. Someone had clearly given up maintaining it pretty early on, probably only using it to keep their head covered without a second thought to whether or not it was actually usable.

Hmm. It seemed familiar enough.

He held it up so he could squint at it better in the light of the single loose light bulb dangling haphazardly from the ceiling.

“Hmmpf.”

_ Ohhhh _ , realization hit him all at once,  _ Church. This is Churchs helmet. _

How did he not recognize it before? He spent _ hours  _ fucking with the recording of that noisy little AI, he should have seen it the second he saw it.

“Oh, Leonard Church, I presume?”

He wasn’t entirely sure why he was talking to it. It was a dead man's helmet.

“You know you and I are intricately inked, two peas in a pod. It feels fitting that I should come across you like this. Caboose called me Not-Church yesterday and I thought hey-”

He put his hand on the shelf, trying to look cool for the dead man's helmet. The shelf, however, did not want him to look cool and almost immediately collapsed in on itself like it was just  _ waiting _ for someone to touch it so it could break. It was kind of like someone named after a military rank had broken it earlier but fixed it just enough so the next person who touched it would think they broke it and have to actually do something about it.

“SON OF A BITCH-”

Temple jumped back, clutching the helmet tightly to his chest.

“Fucking CHRIST that shit was NOT stable.”

He laughed stiffly, turning his attention back to the helmet.

“Hey, least you weren’t in there, right?”

He looked down at the helmet. It felt like it was… accusing him. 

_ What the fuck are you doing here? _

It seemed to ask him.

_ Who do you think you are? Huh? Pretending to be me? You’re not me. You’re just someone who they feel obligated to. I was here first, jackass.  _

He was right.

He was here first.

Temple was an outsider - an outsider they had every reason to hate.

_ You walk in like you own the place and then you pull this shit? Do you even know what any of those nick nacks mean to them? Or were you too busy being dramatic to care? _

_ I’m sorry _ \- he tried convincing the helmet.

_ Sorry? Dude. Come on. That’s IT? You use me as a fucking PAWN to hurt my friends and that’s all you have to say? _

_ I didn’t mean to offend, you were just a means to an end.  _ That pissed the helmet off more.

_ Means to end? Man, fuck you! And what was that end huh? I might have been an asshole but  _ **_YOU_ ** _? Sheesh!  _

_ I- I uh- _

_ Christ, you’re pathetic.  _

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know.”

Temple answered.

“I… I thought I did but I  _ don’t  _ anymore. After the way everyone's been so nice to me - even Sarge in his own way has been understanding… Shit.”

“No. I mean what are you doing with Churchs helmet?”

Temple blinked out of his hypnosis and looked up at Caboose, standing over him. He must have heard the crashing and came over to investigate.

“Uh-”

Caboose took the helmet from him quickly, snatching it from his hands like he would poison it just by touching it.

“That is not yours.”

“I-”

“That is Churchs. And you are not Church.”

“I know-”

“There are a lot of people who  _ are _ Church. Delta Church, Washington sometimes, Sigma Church, _Church_ Church. You are not Church.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Temple dragged his gaze up Cabooses body. He had to be at least 7 foot - maybe he was a SPARTAN drop out or something.

“Did you knock this down?”

Caboose asked bluntly, turning his helmet to look at the scattered objects and pieces of shelves.

“By accident- I… I didn’t mean to.”

“Okay.”

He didn’t seem to need anything further, turning on his heel and going to walk away.

“Wait, Caboose,”

Temple began, reaching his hand towards Caboose.

Caboose turned around, looking down at him through his visor.

“What?”

“...”

He lowered his hand.

“Nothing. Sorry.”

Caboose didn’t even bother looking back as he walked down the hall, passing Washington and the Reds who had come to investigate like they weren’t even there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just think church and temple should talk ok


	15. Fixing shelves as a metaphor for something clever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> hallucinations  
> past character death  
> suicide jokes  
> masturbation jokes
> 
> ranting in end notes feel free to skip its not important

**TEMPLE**

It was decided that the shelf would be too much of a hassle to put back together before lunch and a fair amount of people had slept through breakfast, so getting food was gonna be top priority.

For everyone except Temple.

He had eaten his weight in Space Twinkies earlier and he just wasn’t hungry enough to justify not at least sweeping some things up. 

Besides, if he was being honest, he was kind of fascinated by some of the things he found there.

He recognized a few bits; a PFL issue helmet with a full face shield visor, a broken mark three helmet with a massive hole through the front of the face shield, an AI memory storage unit… etc.

He could spend hours shuffling through various things he recognized - _oh neat! A Sangheili helmet armament!_ \- but had never seen in person. It was almost kind of humbling how much bullshit these guys had clearly seen.

He looked up from where he had pulled the helmets and storage unit into a corner, spotting a rather out of place sniper rifle. 

_Hey dipshit._

Right. That was the same weapon that the AI - Church - had been holding when he made the recording Temple used. It was Church's rifle.

All of this stuff had something to do with the people that lived here. 

Temple grumbled to himself, standing up and walking over to where the shelf he had knocked over had fallen. It looked like someone had knocked part of the back left leg off. It was simple enough to fix really, all Temple needed was a pipe - or even a nice block of wood to balance it on. It wouldn’t be a real repair job, more of a bandage, but that seemed to fit this place well enough.

It didn’t take long to find a piece of scrap wood that someone had been clearly using as a punching board - probably one of the Freelancers considering that it actually looked damaged - and kick off a piece roughly the size of his fist. It wasn’t QUITE small enough to fit under the leg tight enough but a few minutes with a pocket knife solved that easy enough.

“And I thought whittling was a waste of time.”

Temple chuckled to himself, giving the shelf a tentative push. 

“Well, it won’t hold if anyone knocks it from the left or sneezes too hard on it but it’s got its balance now.”

“Not eating?”

Temple turned to look at the source of the voice, starting slightly when he realized it was Carolina.

“Oh- hi.”

Temple tried a smile but failed halfway through and settled on an awkward white-person-seeing-someone-in-public half smirk.

“You seem to know your way around a knife.”

Carolina stepped closer to him. She seemed to be just as apprehensive as he was about the whole interaction.

“Yeah, I uh… used to whittle.”

He wasn't sure why he was sheepish about it but it felt like something to be ashamed about.

“When?”

“Ah, Desert Gulch. Not like there was much else to do. I mean, you could jerk off or kill yourself but refractory periods and the mortal fear of the unknown tend to work against you.”

Carolina snorted.

“You’re crude.”

“Thanks, I try.”

He bent down to pick up the sniper rifle, hesitating slightly to check that she wasn’t going to hit him.

“What?”

She seemed genuinely confused on why he was hesitating.

“Oh it’s just… last time I touched shit from this shelf…”

He shook his head, grabbing the sniper rifle and standing up.

“Doesn’t matter. Wanna help me clean this junk up?”

“Sure.”

He examined the rifle. 

“Damn, the scope on this thing is way off. How does anyone shoot it?”

“Well, the person who did wasn’t much of a shot with or without a working scope.”

“Church. Right.”

He set the rifle down on the shelf.

“You know I’m not much of a shot myself.”

“Really?”

“Oh I’m awful. Couldn’t hit a stagnant target to save my life.”

That wasn't a lie, he was an awful shot.

Carolina chuckled, bending down to pick up the helmet with the broken visor.

“I’m not the best shot but I get the job done.”

“More of a punching kind of girl huh?”

How did he see that one coming?

“More kicks and close range knives but sure, I guess.”

“So… Whose helmet is that?”

He gestured at the helmet in her hands.

“... Texas.”

Temple lowered his hand, turning his gaze away from her back to the shelf.

“Right. Should have recognized it.”

“... Hey-”

“Does the voice modulator still work?”

“What-?”

“Does the voice modulator still work? I’ve always wondered if I’d sound sexy with a deep voice.”

Not always, just since he realized it was about to get awkward if he didn't say something.

Carolina seemed relieved for the conversational out he gave her.

“Ah- I dunno about that. Maybe we shouldn’t mess with it.”

“Yeah, you’re right she’d probably haunt us.”

Carolina set the helmet down beside the rifle, adjusting it slightly so it was nestled against the gun's barrel rested almost protectively over the top of the helmet's brim.

“Texas and Church-...?”

“It’s complicated.”

Temple nodded.

“So... mind telling me about these other hopefully less complicated things?”

He grabbed the sangheili helmet and held it up to her.

“Oh that’s Juniors first battle helmet.”

“Who’s Junior?”

“That’s Tucker's son.”

“... _SON?_ ”

Temple tried in vain to not gwack at her dumbfoundedly. 

“And he's in the guy's life? _Why is that my first question?”_

“Oh yeah, big time. He’s always showing us photos of Junior and talking about his latest accomplishment.”

“Damn…”

Temple took the helmet from her, setting it on the middle row of the shelf.

“... You know, despite everything I feel like I don’t know anything about any of you.”

“Probably don’t.”

Carolina shrugged noncommittally.

“Well, trust is a two way street, why don’t you ask me something?”

He stepped backwards, motioning with his hands in a way that he hoped said _hit me_ without implying **_hit_** me.

She cocked her head slightly, raising her eyebrow quizzically.

“Me?”

“Yeah. That’s how you get to know someone and last time I checked that’s _kind of_ what we’re doing.”

That was an _oversimplification._

She smirked, sighing slightly.

“Yeah okay. Well, where are you from?”

“Canada!”

“Canada.”

“Canada. Calgary, Alberta. Moved to Detroit when I was a kid - that's where I met Biff. But yeah, Canada.”

Damn, did he really sound THAT American? He hadn't been keeping up with his syrup injections.

“Hmpf. Well, I’m from-”

“Texas. I’m guessing Dallas? Didn't spend long there, though. Just when you were a kid.”

“Okay smart ass, you have to at least let me finish. That's also how getting to know people.”

Temple laughed.

“Alright, alright. But I’m right aren’t I?”

“Yeah,”

She bent down to grab a piece of a detonator, setting it down on the middle shelf beside Juniors helmet.

“You are.”

Temple grinned.

“Still got it.”

Just as he was about to say something else, movement at the end of the hallway caught his eye.

It was Wash. He had clearly made good on his promise to come back and put the shelf back.

“Hey-”

Temple trailed off when he noticed the contemplative look in Washs gaze.

Wash looked from Carolina to the shelf before settling his gaze on Temple.

“Whats up?”

Carolina turned to Temple, stopping mid way through shifting through a box clearly labelled “CABOSEZ.”

“Uh- nothing,”

He looked back down at her.

“So, when’d you move out of Dallas?”

“Oh, I was about seven. My mom had just died and my dad - well, that’s also complicated…”

Temple listened intently to Carolina as she gave him the sanitized low down on her parents and That Whole Thing, taking his eyes off her only to check the hallway for the now long gone form of Washington.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let carolina talk i guess


	16. Good night carolina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> overthinking  
> references to brain injury/memory loss

**WASHINGTON**

Wash made a conscious decision to skip out on the nightly popcorn and movie after supper. 

He knew it probably would fuck with his rountine a bit but he needed some time to think alone.

It was hard enough dealing with Temple being around, now, seeing Carolina behave the way she did with him in the hallway this afternoon… 

He wasn’t sure what to think.

He knew that what Carolina had said had made sense. She had made sense when she said why she believed it was important to reach out to people they had hurt - hurting people was what PFL had done and it wasn’t fair that people had suffered from their actions of freelancers.

But at the same time, he worried that she was blaming herself again. She had a habit of doing that. He knew that she blamed herself for not telling him he was hurt, hell, she would find a way to put herself behind the trigger. He knew that no matter what he did, he couldn’t let her feel that way about Temple. What he did was not her fault and he didn’t want Temple to make her feel that way either.

Nothing that had happened to Carolina - or to the people around her for the most part - was ever  _ Carolina's _ fault. He just wanted to make sure she saw that.

_ Fine. _ He decided. He wasn’t going to let himself go to bed without talking to her.

He took out a pen, making sure to jot down what he was planning on his arm - just in case - and stood up from the comfortable bean bag he had settled down into.

“Carolina?”

He started at the movie room.

Nope. No one there, the movie must have already ended.

That meant that she was on her way to bed.

He could beat her there.

Carolinas room was just beside Donuts, so it wasn’t hard to find it in the dark - not… that he went to Donuts after dark often or anything. He just liked to double check his muscle memory still worked when getting around, just in case. 

“Carolina?”

He rapped his knuckles on the door.

“Are you in there?”

“Wash?”

Came the soft and sleepy reply.

“That you?”

“Hi, can I come in? I wanna talk to you.”

“Uh, sure.”

He stepped back from the door, sighed and cracked his neck - oof that hurt. 

Carolina answered the door in pyjama shorts that Wash was pretty sure she had stolen from him and a tee that said “ _ Bob's fish emporium! You catch em, we stuff em!” _

“Hey?”

She cocked her head at him quizzically.

“What are you doing up? Shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed?”

“I want to talk to you about Temple.”

“Oh- come in then.”

She held the door open wider, motioning for him to sit down on her bed.

“I know that you blame yourself for-”

He began, gesturing with his hands unnecessarily.

“I don’t blame myself.”

“And sometimes you like to- what?”

“I used to. I really did.”

“Then…”

“Something he said to me actually. After supper last night.”

“You... talked?”

“Yeah.”

She sat down beside him.

“He said it almost as an offhand comment but… he said ‘ _ a lot of it’s on me. _ ’ When Tucker came to find me this morning, he asked me if I forgave him and it made me realize that…”

She shifted her weight and sighed heavily.

“It… It’s not him I have to forgive.”

“... It's yourself.”

“Yeah.”

Wash leaned forward, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“Okay.”

He wrinkled his nose, thinking.

“Is he a good conversationalist?”

She snorted.

“He certainly thinks he is.”

Wash laughed.

“So. You’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Are you okay?”

He thought for a few seconds. _Was he okay?_ _Was he really well and truly okay with this? Was he really willing to accept that he was here? That he was going to have to see him around daily?_

“Yeah,”

He decided.

“I am.”

“Okay,”

She kissed his forehead lightly.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya Carolina,”

He slid off her bed and walked towards the door, giving her one last wave before heading out into the hall.

“Sleep well.”

“You too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> basically,... i love them


	17. oh, come ON carolina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no cws

**TEMPLE**

It would be an understatement to say that Temple spent the next three days after Sarge and Tucker blew up in a perpetual state of sweaty awkwardness.

He had figured that he had some kind of repor with Carolina after she had helped him repair the shelf and it wasn’t like she had blown up at him at supper. They had  _ kind of  _ talked so they had to be at least kind of okay.

That had to count for something.

Deciding that it  _ did _ was the main reason that he tracked her down after the third breakfast consisting of stolen boxed food from the snack room.

She was easy to find, always working her ass off in the gym like she was concerned that staying still would kill her.

“Hey.”

He pushed open the door, waving to her slightly,

“Hey.”

She didn’t bother stopping her bench lifts. At least she didn’t see him as a threat.

Temple picked up a nearby loose baseball, tossing it up and down in his hand as he walked over to a bench beside her.

“Shouldn't you have someone spotting you? I’m pretty sure half those circle weights are wider than my arm.”

“I’m alright.”

She huffed.

“For liabilities sake I should tell you that my max weight is however much a jumbo box of cheerios weighs.”

She rolled her eyes, setting the bar back in its place.

“Chatty today huh?”

“I’m lonely, sue me.”

He caught the ball he had been messing with and held it out towards her.

“You know where this goes? It was just beside the door.”

“Probably goes there. There's no real organization here.”

Temple shrugged, leaning back against the wall.

“So, Carol-ina. Car-olina.  _ Care-oh-lina. _ ”

“Something on your mind?”

She raised her brow, cocking her head to the side. She seemed to think he was nothing more than a pain in her side, a little kid asking if she had games on her phone.

“Nope. Just bored.”

“So…”

“So, I was wondering what you guys did for fun.”

“That depends. What are you looking for?”

“Well. I’m not allowed to touch the movie collection - or do much of anything else - so… something that doesn’t involve anything tangible or important to anyone.”

“That limits our options.”

She sat up, stretching her arms from side to side.

He rubbed at his face.  _ Christ, he needed to shave. _ He understood why they didn’t trust him with a razor but come on, not even a quick shave?

**_Wait._ **

Razor blades.

Knives.

_ Swords. _

And then he got an idea. An awful idea. Mark Temple had a wonderful awful idea.

"Tuckers… sword."

"What about it?"

"Have you ever tried taking it from him?"

"... No and I'm not going to steal it."

She said that now but he hadn't even pulled out the big guns.

"Oh. So you're not even going to try?”

He yawned, making sure to over exaggerate every movement he made.

“Alright, since you think you can’t do it.”

She sat up straighter.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh you didn’t have to. It’s obvious. You think you can’t get it from him and don’t want to let me see any weakness. I get it!”

“That's not it at all.”

She sounded  _ excited.  _ It was working.

Temple stood up, lazily tossing the ball up and down.

“I mean, I’m no  _ master thief _ but I used to nick things from my teammates all the time. If Tucker didn’t consider me such a shoot to kill threat I could easily-”

He caught the ball and made a swiping motion with his hand.

“But… since you can’t do it… Guess I’ll just find something else to do. Maybe Washington has something for me… Might just ask Sarge to run me ragged.”

“I could do it.”

She stood up, sliding between Temple and the door.

“And I know what you’re doing.”

“Do you?”

“Yes. You want to goad me into entertaining you because you’re bored and you think you have me figured out.”

“Is that what I’m doing? I thought we were just talking!”

It was what he was doing but the trick to a good lie is standing by it even if you were caught.

She huffed before puffing out her chest slightly and motioning for him to stay put.

“Stay here. If Tucker sees you with me he won’t let either of us near him.”

“Course,”

He purred.

“I’ll be here.”

Carolina seemed to think that was good enough. 

She turned on her heel and marched out of the room, leaving Temple to enjoy his victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay..,,,,, some of zeros cast is growing on me especially east and west. zero has my heart.


	18. remember kids, stealing is okay if someone triple dog dared you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no cws

**CAROLINA**

Carolina could NOT believe how low she had stooped.

Was she really so competitive that she was going to take a dare from TEMPLE?  _ Mark Temple? _

Was that really who she was?

No! It wasn’t!

She was going to march right up to Tucker and tell him to his face that Temple had dared her to steal his sword.

She was not going to let Anybody use her own nature against her! 

Tucker was just sitting at a stolen school lunch table outside the kitchen, grazing happily on a cheese burger that he had coated almost entirely in ketchup - horrible.

"Hey! Carolina!"

He stood up, waving her over.

"You finished your reps early or something?"

She hesitated before nodding and walking over to sit beside him.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Oh?"

He cocked his head to the side innocently, sitting back down like there was nothing to be worried about in the whole world.

"Yeah it's about Temple. He-"

Carolinas eyes caught on the sword looped on Tuckers belt. It was right there.

_ No! _ A voice in her head told her.  _ You're better than this _ !

"What about him? He been bothering you? I thought he was keeping to himself lately!"

Tucker growled, exhaling hotly out of his nose.

"I should have told him CLEARLY that if he started shit I'd give him a wha-"

"No!"

_ God, she wasn't better than this. _

"I was actually going to ask if he was bothering  _ you!" _

"Oh."

He shook his head.

"No. Haven't seen him since he knocked over the shelf three days ago."

"Yeah, what was with that?"

She didn't even recognize herself.

"I KNOW!"

He slammed his hands down on the table.

"I mean did you SEE Caboose after that?"

"Horrible."

She hooked her fingers around the sword handle.

  
  


"I'm just glad SOMEONE is making sense around here!"

Tucker shot back.

"You know what WASH told me? He told me to give him a  _ chance _ ."

Carolina clicked her tongue.

"Wash."

"Christ!"

He sighed, turning back to his food.

"Well. No. To answer your question, he hasn't been bothering me. I think he's sulking."

Carolina nodded.

"Well,"

She stood up and cracked her back.

"As long as he's not bothering you."

"Yeah, I'm good."

He resumed stuffing his hamburger in his face, waving to her as she walked down the hall.

Carolina would have felt a prick of shame if she wasn't so damn proud of herself as she looked the sword handle over.

  
She was starting to think  _ maybe _ she might be a  _ little _ competitive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> carolina be like *bastardizes*


	19. you really did it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> past torture  
> past murder  
> general perversion in regards to others suffering  
> mental exhaustion

**TEMPLE**

"Damn, you really did it."

Carolina didn't care to try her pride, puffing her chest out slightly as Temple took the sheathed sword from her hand.

"It was easy."

Temple chuckled, making a sweeping gesture with the sword, imaging that it would actually unsheathe.

"So, this thing actually only works for Tucker huh?"

She nodded.

"Trust me I've tried it."

"Adds spice."

Temple smirked, handing it back to her.

"Take it. He'll probably smell me on it."

Carolina looked him over, smiling slightly. 

It was nice to see her smile… Until it turned into a harsh frown.

"I shouldn't have done that."

Right.

"Yeah."

He stepped back slightly.

_What was he doing?_ _He had tried to kill this woman and now he was playing with her like they were old friends?_

"But-"

He shook his head.

"I…"

"But?"

She seemed just as interested in what he would say as he was.

"... Listen-"

He paused.

"I uh… feel like I should- tell you something?"

"What?"

"..."

He hesitated. This was a bad idea. She had been  _ playing _ with him and he was just gonna fuck it up.

"I. I liked killing your friends."

Carolina's demeanor chilled.

"It uh. All felt so justified at the time but… I think I liked it. I think I liked making them suffer - making  _ you _ suffer."

She narrowed her gaze at him.

He wheezed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

"I did all but get off on it honestly."

She pursed her lips, glaring at him like he'd kicked a puppy - or killed her fellow soldiers by slowly starving them to death. 

"You uh, should probably have let Tucker kill me."

She didn't say anything.

"... Jesus. You gonna hit me or just stand there?"

Temple laughed awkwardly.

"I mean come on, you're not gonna say anything? I mean-"

"Be quiet."

Carolina turned to him, growling slightly.

"There we go."

"What are you Doing here Temple?? Do you  _ want _ me to hurt you?? Is that it?"

"No-"

"Then why do you INSIST on making it so tempting?"

He wiggled slightly.

"Is this another Game of yours? Is this just your way of punishing me more? Huh?"

  
  


"I DON'T KNOW!"

He finally admitted, throwing his hands up in the air.

"I DON'T know! I think I want you to hit me! I think it would make it EASIER!"

"Easier??"

"Yes! God!"

He groaned, putting his hands over his face.

"I can't STAND you being nice to me! This is  **_Torture!_ ** You're  **_TORTURING ME!_ ** "

"I'm  _ torturing  _ **_You_ ** ."

"YES! AND I GET THE IRONY! OKAY! I GET THAT THIS IS IRONIC! BUT- I-"

He dragged his hands down his face.

"I feel… like I'm in hell. You're torturing me."

He dropped to his knees, almost completely involuntarily.

"You're…"

He hung his head, feeling his voice break.

" _ You're torturing me." _

She didn't say anything for a long time.

"We're torturing you."

He nodded.

"Nobodys trying to torture you, Temple."

She crouched down to look at him.

"You do that all your own."

He pressed his head against the gym mat.

" _ I know." _

Carolina - for all her faults and misgivings - seemed to be incapable of leaving him alone while he sobbed, opting instead to stay close to him with her hand awkwardly placed on his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just think that temple should feel remorse and also go fuck himself


	20. Caboose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> panic  
> past death

**TEMPLE**

He wasn't entirely sure when he stopped crying.

He was pretty sure that at some point Carolina had told him she was going to find him a blanket and some water - something about dehydration.

Temple knew that meant to some degree that he was probably going to be on his own for a bit. It just didn't entirely process in his mind.

"Hello? Caroline?"

Temple blinked away tears, rolling over on the mat to look at the door and subsequently Caboose.

"Oh."

Caboose looked down at him.

"Hello!"

Temple made a whining groan sound.

"Hello."

Caboose crouched down, examining him like he was a golden coin or a small animal.

"Are you alright Not-Church?"

"Temple."

He gritted his teeth.

"Mark Temple."

Caboose didn't say anything, cocking his head to the side.

"My name -"

He could feel anger rising in his throat.

"Is  _ Mark Temple _ . You can't even  _ remember  _ that???"

_ Fucking- halfwit. _

“I  _ tried to kill you  _ and you can’t even get my NAME right?”

He wasn’t even sure why he was so mad but  _ God _ it pissed him off.

“Friends can try to kill each other.”

“We’re not friends. You made that clear enough in the hallway the other day.”

Caboose cocked his head to the side.

“I did?”

_ Was he being serious? _

"How  _ else _ do you read snatching that damn helmet like I was poisonous?"

Caboose thought for a few minutes.

"I took Churchs helmet because you are not Church and it is Churchs helmet."

Temple blinked, incredulous.

"You are Mark Temple. Not Church."

"That still doesn't erase that  _ I tried to kill you _ ."

"Friends kill each other sometimes. That doesn't mean that they're not friends. I killed Church once! Or… twice. Although I think the first time might have had something to do with Church himself."

He tapped a finger against his helmet.

"Well we're  _ not _ friends."

"You were friends with Loco."

Temples heart stopped.

"And you killed him. That doesn't mean that you're not  _ best friends _ ."

Temple wanted to hit him.  _ Best friends?  _ He thought that Loco was his Best Friend??

"We could be friends!"

He sounded so innocent and naive. It hurt to hear.

"Friends."

"Yes! We could be friends! Not best friends though, Church is my best friend. And you, Mark Temple, are not Church."

Temple made a noise he didn't recognize or understand.

"Friends."

Caboose nodded.

"Alright."

Temple whispered, his voice hoarse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tiddy more tiddy
> 
> this isnt related but if you threw temple in a dance circle hed probably panic and do the robot or some shit. awkward man representation.


	21. Okay, once more with feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no cws

**TEMPLE**

The decision to follow Caboose to lunch was the second dumbest thing Temple had done in recent memory - excluding all the murdering and breaking time.

“Hello!”

Caboose walked into the door leading to the dining room, unfazed by the time it took for the door to creak open and catch up with his body.

“Hey Cab-”

Tucker stopped mid way through setting out plates.

“Temple.”

“Sup.”

Temple squeaked, putting his hand awkwardly on the door frame. 

  
  


“Sup!”

Donut waved back from pouring himself a glass of some fizzy pink drink.

“Are you going to sit with us?”

“I don’t know. Am I?”

He deferred to Tucker and Washs icy glares.

“Sure he is.”

Carolina didn’t let them get a word in.   
“And he’ll sit with the Reds on the left side this time.”

“I- I will?”

“He will?”

Simmons squeaked from somewhere behind Carolina.

“LIKE HELL HE WILL.”

Sarge materilized behind Temple.

Was- Was he pointing a shotgun at his back?

Of course he was. That was a stupid question.

“Hiya Sarge.”

Temple gave him an awkward wave.

“You- uh- move fast for an old timer.”

Sarge didn’t immediately kill him for the implication he actually was the age listed on his service record - progress?

“Put the shotgun down, Sarge.”

Carolina didn’t even look at Temples predicament, settling down in her mat assigned seat without much fanfare.

“Better not be lactose intolerant. Pretty much all of the sandwiches here are cheese.”

  
  


Temple looked at the stacked platters of sandwiches -  _ damn, did Donut do anything other than cook and clean?  _ \- and shrugged.

“S’probably fine.”

It took Sarge a few minutes to finally relent and lower the shotgun but when he did he easily sat down in between Grif and Simmons and motioned for Temple to sit on Grifs left. 

“Where I can see you and have a clean shot at you.”

“But- isn’t Grif-”

“He’ll shoot through me.”

Grif said it like it was normal. Was Surge ever this anti Biff? He couldn’t remember.

“Alrighty then.”

Temple pulled out his seat, looking across the table to Caboose as he sat. He kind of wanted to see if Caboose removed his helmet to eat or somehow just osmosised it. It was... weird how he never seemed to be without armour. _Did he sleep with it too?_

“Te sentirás decepcionado.”

Lopez gestured to Temple from the seat beside him.

“Ese idiota nunca se quita el casco.”

"... So,"

Temple started, picking up a sandwich.

"Your robot speaks Spanish."

Carolina chuckled slightly.

"It's not even  _ good  _ Spanish. According to Epsilons translation matrix it's the equivalent of running something through a shitty internet translator."

Temple snorted.

"Damn. Any of you  _ speak _ Spanish?"

"Oh, I do!"

Donut chirped.

"Nope. Not a word."

Grif pushed an entire sandwich into his mouth.

“Donut no habla por mí y Grif me ha abandonado.”

“Absolutely, Lopez!”

Donut beamed at the robot.

Temple knew just enough Spanish to know that wasn’t the right response to what Lopez said but he didn’t want to ruin the moment. Instead, he opted to keep eating silently and un-shotgunned to death.

It wasn’t like he contributed much to any conversation that happened over the course of lunch - he knew better than that - but he didn’t get yelled at and no one stormed out in a murderous rage.

_ Alright, _ he decided mid way through pouring Sarge a replacement glass of water,  _ take two didn’t suck. _

And it didn’t. It wasn’t a  _ comfortable _ lunch but they didn’t kill him and Caboose called him Temple instead of Not-Church when offering him salt. 

Good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lopez translations
> 
> 1  
> youll be disappointed.
> 
> 2  
> That idiot never removes his helmet
> 
> 3  
> donut does not speak for and and grif has abandoned me


	22. Human connection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no cws

**TEMPLE**

Not many things could surprise Temple anymore. He liked to think he was used to the Reds and Blues bullshit - I mean, come on, he had done this with his own team - but he was constantly being surprised by his own surprise.

Today, in this particular moment, he was surprised that Simmons managed to find a way to fold a tablecloth aggressively.

_ Simmons _ .

Temple was more confused than the implication that Simmons could be intimidating than he was by basic maths in high school.

“So.”

Temple leaned on the table, trying an awkward - hopefully disarmingly so - grin.

“You’re pretty finicky about how you fold.”

_ What the FUCK did that mean? _

Simmons stopped, staring at him.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“You fold. Finickily.”

Simmons visibly didn’t know how to take that one.

“... _ What.” _

“SOOOO!”   
Temple rubbed the back of his neck.

“You and Grif.”

“I think I liked the monologuing better.”

“God, me too but this is what I’ve been reduced to.”

He shrugged, trying to brush off the implied personal distaste.

“You lean on things a lot.”

“Do I?”

He did kind of. He used to think it made him look sauve and cool like a Bond villain but he was starting to realize he was just kind of socially awkward.

“I uh… yeah okay.”

Nowhere fast. Great direction for a conversation.

“So has Sarge always been senile or-...”

“He’s not senile.”

Simmons made an  _ ehhnf  _ noise, grimacing slightly like his own natural kissassery was conflicting with common sense.

“Just old and losing it.”

“He won’t tell anyone how old he is.”

Simmons ran his hands over the decorative table cloth, smoothing out any creases he found.

“Least sixty. Surge was...”

Temple wrinkled his nose.

“Sixty… _ five?” _

“He was a drop trooper in the beginning of the war.”

“Woof. Could be anywhere from sixty to legally dead.”

“I think it’s medically dead.”

“No no I mean that he’s supposed to be dead, like the government declared him dead he’s just on the run.”

Simmons snorted, throwing back his head slightly.

It almost felt like Temple was actually going to say something worth saying, that this was actually going to be a moment of genuine human connection.

But ultimately, he probably wasn’t going to. 

He was after all, an outsider. He had more than used up any chance he had had at not fucking everything up a long time ago and now he couldn’t help but feel out of place and awkward - more than he usually did.

“So.”

Temple looked at Simmons, exhaling deeply.

“So.”

Simmons didn’t give him much thought after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like i said  
> just a buncha dudes standing around talkin


	23. Everyone?????

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no cws

**GRIF**

Simmons found Grif pretty much the second he could wiggle his way out of the dining room and away from Temple.

That wasn’t out of character or anything, Grif knew that he was bound to come looking for him. That was just how they were.

“Grif!”

Simmons waved at him, clearly under the false assumption that he was going to  _ get up from the comfy bean bag he had settled in. _

“Simmons!”

Grif tried to mock his energy without actually having to put energy into it.

“Guess what!”

Simmons sat down beside Grif, pushing him to the side of the beanbag. Clearly he wanted to talk about something.

“Temple asked about you and me!”

“What did he ask?”

“Well he just said -”

Simmons puffed out his chest, deepening his voice slightly - which was unnecessary, Temple didn’t have a deep voice, if anything he was the same as Simmons.

_ “Soooo you and Grif.  _ Like  _ what does THAT mean? _ ”

Grif shrugged.

“I dunno man, maybe he’s just being nosy.”

“Yeah but he said it like he was expecting something to immediately click! Like I would know what I meant.”

“Maybe he was just trying to get under your skin. You are easily irritated.”

“AM NOT!”

Simmons snapped back at him, irritated.

Grif snorted.

“See.”

Simmons huffed.

“Whatdya say to him?”

Grif yawned, leaning his head on Simmons shoulder.

“Oh I just told him I liked his monologuing better.”

“Nice.”

Grif looked Simmons up and down. He seemed proud of himself - that's pretty unusual. Simmons was proud of himself, he was sleepy… He didn’t think he needed to say anything else, sometimes Simmons company was just enough on its own, he could just go to sleep here. 

“I mean, why does EVERYONE always ask that?”

Or not.

“I dunno man.”

“I mean! Come on!”

Simmons made a guffawed.

“Psshaw!”

He was going to talk himself into a circle if Grif didn’t say something.

“They probably think there’s something going on.”

Simmons went red.

“HWHAT?”

“Yeah.”

Grif shrugged. 

“Thats what everyone thinks and DONUT hasn’t helped that.”

“Donuts been telling people theres something going on between us?”

Simmons squeak reached near dog whistle frequencies

Grif nodded.

“Yeah, for years.”

Simmons buried his face in his hands.

“ _ Everyone? _ ”

Grif shrugged.

“Yeah pretty much.”

Lucky for Grifs daily allotted nap on Simmons shoulder, that seemed to keep Simmons in stunned embarrassed silence for a few hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finals are kicking my ass so chaps arent gonna be as often


	24. You're cute when you're angry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw   
> sexual innuendo

**TEMPLE**

After the clusterfuck that was trying to get conversational blood from a stone named Simmons, Temple had no other option than risk going against all he had strived to represent in his life and make his way to the gym.

It wasn’t like there weren’t other places to explore; he had just realized that if he stared at the same bullshit for long enough he might gouge his eyes out.

It was draining just talking to people without actually having much to say or much of a desire to actually talk but what else was there to do? Sit around with his thumb up his ass and bitch about the good old days?

To his surprise - and to be completely honest, horror, - someone had already decided to take up residency in the gym. 

“Oh hi!”   
Kaikania stopped midway through her stretches to wave at him. She had settled herself down in a full split and was apparently trying to see if she could reach her head down between her legs and flatten the top of her head onto the mat.

“What are you doing?”

Temple cocked his head, walking closer to her curiously.

“Training!”

“For what? Giving yourself head?”

She grinned at him. That was a stupid question; this girl was attractive to Tucker, of course that was what she was doing.

“What are  _ you _ doing?”

She turned the question back on him, pulling her legs in front of her like she was preparing to stand up without actually committing to that much effort.

“Well I was hoping no one would be in here so I could bash my head into a wall or something equally fun.”

She laughed, patting the mat beside her.

“Sit down! I’m tired of staring at your dick.”

Temple looked down sheepishly, realizing  _ oh yeah, her head  _ **_is_ ** _ about my dick level. _

“Right sorry.”

He awkwardly settled down in front of her, smirking slightly.

“So, what's  _ your _ deal?”

She yawned, stretching her head back.

“Whatdya mean?”

That was a weird question. What did she mean by  _ deal _ ? He was a gemini if that’s what she was asking.

“Well, everyone around here's got some type of  _ deal _ . And to be honest I didn’t get to find out much about what yours even  _ was _ . I saw you like…  _ once _ and apparently I _ just  _ missed where you broke time.”

Temple snorted.

“Psh- Yeah. Well. That’s pretty much it. Did some breaking of time, some murdering. Monologuing.”

“GOD!”

She slapped her thighs suddenly, thoroughly startling Temple who was already uncomfortable and on edge.

“What?!”

“One of these days they’re gonna bring home someone who ISN’T a war criminal.”

“Oh.”

“First the hot guy with the X on his helmet is a war criminal, now the twink who looks like Church? What's ne x t?”

“I’m not a twink.”

He huffed at her.

“You’re thin and sickly, that pretty much makes you as close as a twink as you can get around here.”

Temple rubbed the back of his neck. Now that she mentioned it, everyone around here all seemed some degree of jacked, even Grif and Kai had some degree of visible muscle definition under all the pudge. 

“...Still not a twink.”

“Mmmm I dunno man, lose the beard and you’re a cookie cutter twink.”

“Guess I won’t ask if you have a razor I can borrow.”

“Oh I got plenty. Don’t you?”

Temple huffed.

“No they don’t trust me with knives.”

She sighed.

“Well then that brings me back to what your  _ deal  _ is.”

Temple scoffed.

“Didn’t I just answer that?”

“No. Not really.”

Temple grumbled. This was going nowhere. He didn’t come here to play 20 questions, he came here to be ALONE for once in his fucking life! What did she want from him? A full crash course on all the terrible shit he had done? They’d be here for days!

“You’re cute when you’re angry.”

She purred, snapping him out of his self imposed pout.

He felt his cheeks flush despite his previous pissyiness.

“I am?”

“Yeah, in like a… rebound flirt kind of way.”

Right. 

“Works for me.”

He shrugged slightly before sighing and giving up, he wasn’t exactly going to find anything else to do but sit around and talk, might as well talk to someone who didn’t have too much of an opinion on him.

“Well, I guess my deal is that I’m here and everyone seems to want me to be here - kind of - and I’m not sure why or what to do about that.”

“Well, why don’t you just-”

She shrugged.

“Start by making a to-do list or something?”

“Yeah like what? Isn’t everyone here retired?”

“Yeah but shit seems to find us anyway, you could just try and knock off a few things before it does.”

He rubbed his chin.

“Well. I’d like to get a clean shave and uh… I kind of fi xed those shelves in the storage hallway but I could do better, probably just make a new shelf honestly.”

“So… that’s a start!”

She beamed at him.

“Yeah,”

He flashed her an awkward smile, realizing that there was no way for him to measure up to her level without straining a few facial muscles.

  
“I guess it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so that clusterfuck of the latest zero episode huh  
> my expectations were low but holy fuck
> 
> basically,,, anyhow.


	25. temple and kais ambiguously flirtatious shelf adventure Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No cws

**TEMPLE**

It was kind of amusing watching Kai sneak around the halls like she thought they were on a secret mission. Sure the vast majority of people didn't  _ want _ Temple getting a razor but they probably wouldn't attack Kai for helping.

...Not that he was going to do anything to stop her. 

If sliding along the hallway walls with a concentration face that looked like it belonged in a cartoon was what she wanted to do, who was he to stop her?

“So. Where are we going?"

"Storage room! That's where everything is!"

Temple nodded.

"Right."

He followed her with his hands in his pants pockets, watching as she maneuvered down the hallway with the broken shelves and the emotionally charged helmets.

"This door!"

She pushed open a door he hadn't bothered to try before, revealing a room stuffed full of every possible household ware and boxed consumable.

Temple whistled, walking in behind her.

"Damn. You bitches live like this?"

"Wash says it's in case the Reds blow their area to shit but, it's been ages since they did that and we're basically living the life of royalty."

Temple snorted.

"I mean, it fits."

"What? Because we're so  _ royal? _ "

"Well back in the old days you'd be a symbol of wealth."

Temple gestured at her, trying to hold back his snark.

Kaikania scrunched up her nose, thinking that through.

"You calling me fat?"

"And a royal."

She wiggled her hips and waved her hand playfully.

"Same thing."

"Oh for sure."

Temple walked over to a nearby shelf, taking a box of disposable blue razors.

"Are these for womens legs or people who can't be trusted with electric razors?"

Kai shrugged.

"Dunno. They're all the same aren't they?"

"Well traditionally the women's razors are about 20 bucks pricey-er."

He grinned at her, half expecting her to swat him for something. 

To his surprise - and relief - she didn't hit him, only grinning back at him.

"Damn you, patriarchy!"

She didn't hit him. She… laughed at him. Didn't call him awkward or - rightfully - call him out for being a criminal playing at redemption.

That was pretty much a love declaration to a touch starved loser.

"You wanna help me build a shelf?"

She stopped mid way through grabbing herself a box of hair dye.

"Sure!"

She said yes.

"If you help me dye my hair!"

She held up the box of green hair dye.

"... Green?"

She looked at the box.

"Oh! Yeah! It's all the same!"

_ Colour blind. _ She's colour blind.

Temple laughed.  _ How absurd! _ With all these colour coded asshats around her, the bitch was  _ colour blind?? _

She was colour blind.

And… she was asking him to spend even more time with her.

Temple felt his cheeks flush slightly.

"Oh-Sure. You wanna do that before or after getting a snack?"

"After."

That was  _ three things _ she had agreed to do with him.

He decided that was probably better than he'd find anywhere else - even if the cynical part of his brain was telling him bad things come in three - and motioned for her to follow him to the snack storage.

"Awesome, your brother has this Huge storage of space twinkies he hides in the vents of the snack room…"

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hc temple as gay, hes just lonely and kais flirty.


	26. temple and kais ambiguously flirtatious shelf adventure part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw food  
> nsfw discussions

**TEMPLE**

Kai ate like her brother.

Or, possibly, her brother ate like her. Maybe Grif was just a copycat and Temple was used to thinking he was the original because of ~ Reasons ~.

“Hey, Kai,”

Temple wiped his face clean of crumbs, setting down the box of Space Nyanmo Bars he had been working on.

“Which one of you is older? Between you and your brother.”

“Oh,”

She swallowed.

“Dex. He’s five years older.”

Never mind Grif was the original, Temple had been vindicated.

“So I was thinking, after we get done here -”

“I could eat for days dude.”

“Okay, when I reach a point where keeping up with you will make my stomach explode, I’d like to get your hair started. If you’re not going to bleach it before -

“Bleach is bad for you.”

“Stop interrupting me. If you’re not going to bleach it before the dye should set for a bit and while it’s doing that I want to get started on taking all of the thingies off the shelf and maybe put them in boxes.”

Kai nodded, seeming to think that made sense.

“So… Until then, anything else you wanna talk about?”

“Yeah actually,”

He had to be careful with how much gossip he pushed for, even if she didn’t hate him right now he could probably fix that with a mistimed question.

“Simmons and your brother-”

“GOD you’ve noticed it too?”

“YEAH LIKE DO THEY HAVE TO BE CONSTANTLY EYE FUCKING EACH OTHER?”

“I  **_KNOW_ ** ! SEE, SIMMONS  _ IS _ GAY - at least I’m pretty sure he is - AND I KNOW MY BROTHER IS AT LEAST BI SO THERE’S NO REASON FOR BOTH OF THEM TO BE LIKE THAT!”

“IT’S LIKE THEY’RE TRYING TO MAKE PEOPLE AROUND THEM UNCOMFORTABLE!”

She laughed, throwing her head back.

“You know they’ve slept together right?”

“What???”

“Yeah! Tucker set off this tower thing on Chorus - that was a fun day - and they _ totally _ did it in a closet.”

Temple stifled back the oncoming fit of hysterics.

“WHAT? IN A  _ CLOSET?  _ HOW MUCH MORE ON THE NOSE CAN YOU GET?”

“I KNOW!”

Kaikaina grinned at him. She kind of felt like… she was sizing him up.

“... I’m gonna quickly specify that I’m gay and this is a storage room not a closet.”

That earned him a full body fit of hysteria from her and a wrapper thrown at his head.

“PFF-SHUT UP!”

Temple grinned at her, standing up.

“Hey, we should get started on your hair, I’ve got a perfectly good bathroom right next to the room they gave me that I haven’t massacred with bullshit yet and I think hair dye stains would be the perfect first dusting of stains on the white towels.”

Kaikaina nodded and stood up, lazily tossing the finished off box over her shoulder and motioning for him to lead.

“Alright, buddy, lead on.”

She called him buddy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone had a happy hannukkah!


	27. temple and kais ambiguously flirtatious shelf adventure part 3  - surprise water boarding!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for jokes about water boarding

**TEMPLE**

Kaikania was not the easiest person to work with.

She was prone to slapping away hands whenever he tried to work on any particularly ticklish patch of scalp and making weird giggle noises at random instances.

It was just nice to talk to a human person for once instead of a hallucinated helmet ghost.

“So,”

Temple tried to channel his inner hairdresser, shifting his weight awkwardly.

“What do we think about this particular shade of gray?”

Kai snorted.

“It's especially gray, much better than the other shade of gray.”

Temple decided that was enough bullshit for now, having realized it would take too long to unpack her decision making skills. For now, he figured he could probably just focus on getting the last bit of dye massaged into her hair and pretend he was a normal person.

“Hey!”

Tuckers voice broke through the comfortable - if a bit strange - silence.

“Kaikaina?”

“Is that Tucker?”

Kai stood up, inadvertently making Temple stumble back onto the discarded cardboard packaging and lose his balance.

“Oops-”

She seemed to realize he had been leaning into her weight at the same time that Temple completely busted ass and fell into the hallway - directly in front of Tucker, wearing nothing but gym shorts.

Not… his most graceful wipe out.

Hell, it probably wasn’t even his most graceful wipe out in front of a shirtless guy.

“Hi.”

Temple looked up at Tucker, trying to keep his gaze focused on his face rather than the blue glowing tattoos(?) lining his body and various patches of scar tissue.

“Temple?”

Kaikaina stuck her head out, waving at Tucker quickly before looking down at Temple.

“Sorry about that, Mark.”

“Are you dying your hair? With  _ Temple _ ??”

“Yeah, do you like it?”

“Is... that  _ supposed  _ to be green?”

“Uh no, its ~  _ gray  _ ~”

“No it’s definitely green.”

“That’s fine I can just get up.”

Temple grumbled to himself, more than a little peeved to have been completely moved on from.

“You should dye it back.”

Tucker crossed his arms, puffing his - surprisingly toned - chest out slightly.

  
“You don’t get an opinion!”

“You do need to wash it out soon though, the label said not to leave the excess dye too long.”

Temple wasn’t even being heard.

“Remember how we discussed how sometimes people have to make fashion choices FOR you and despite you?”

“You’re not qualified to lecture me! You don’t own a single shirt with sleeves!”

“Oh look, the tap has an extension feature. I could just wash your hair out from here.”

Temple yawned, pulling the tap forward and holding it over her hair.

Was he really going to do this? Cause problems on purpose?

“I don’t NEED sleeves, these  _ guns _ keep me warm day and night!”

Tucker demonstrated this fact by flexing his right arm obnoxiously. 

“Kai, I’m going to turn the tap on.”

Temple  _ was _ technically giving her a warning.

“Those  _ guns _ keep you warm when Wash made you-”

Due to not receiving the attention he felt he deserved, Temple made the executive decision to turn the tap on and cause problems on purpose.

The resulting fall out of Kai being surprise waterboarded was her screaming like a banshee and reflexively hitting Tucker in the face with a well aimed slap/flail combination.

“OW! DUDE WHAT THE FUCK!”

Tucker finally seemed to realize Temple was there.

“MARK!”

Kai wheeled on him.

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR?”

“You need to wash your hair out.”

He said rather matter of factly.

“I told you I was going to turn the tap on, weren’t you listening?”

Kai flushed slightly.

“Uh, totally was.”

“Then we should wash it out properly in the sink don’t you think?”

She nodded quickly, walking back to the sink where Temple could scrub the last of the dye out of her obscenely long hair.

“Hmmpf,”

Tucker, evidently also not fond of being ignored, crossed his arms and stepped over the puddle of green dye and water.

“Is this just what you’re doing now? Dying peoples hair?”

Temple ignored the implied insult.

“Actually we have a few things we’re doing later. We’re going to get started on the plans for a better shelving system in that hallway of things and doo dads.”

“You know how to build shelves?”

Temple nodded at him, giving Kais hair one last rinse before stuffing the tap back.

“My dad was a carpenter.”

“You should join us!”

Kai popped up, splashing Temple and Tucker with hair runoff before wrapping her hair in a previously perfect white towel.

“Uh… for what?”

“Well it’s not like it'll be done today, Marks just getting the plans laid out. You could have some design input. It’s mostly you guys junk anyway.”

Tucker didn’t seem to think there was much design input to be had on shelves but his suspicious glare at Temple told him exactly why he was Really going to come along before he even said anything.

“Fine but only because apparently you two need a chaperone.”

“What does that mean?”

Kai seemed completely unaware of how her hair was staining the towel.

“He means he doesn’t like me.”

“Got that right.”

Tucker's dramatic turn around would have been much more hard hitting and intimidating if he didn’t immediately slip and bust ass on the dye puddle. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> temple voice "good morning everyone, god has allowed me to live another day and i am about to make it everybodys problem"
> 
> EDIT: SO WAS NO ONE GONNA TELL MY DYSLExIC ASS THAT IVE BEEN PUTTING KAIKIANA INSTEAD OF KAIKAINA SOMETIMES? I HATE IT HERE. WHATEVER


	28. shelf adventure intermission - obligatory title chapter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw  
> mourning  
> past death  
> past suicidal character

**TEMPLE**

Kai didn’t seem to realize how awkward her suggestion of the boys just going to the Reds “storage cabin” ahead of her would be. The idea of leaving two people who couldn’t even look each other in the eye to grab potentially hazardous materials while she flirted with Wash for some juice packs seemed like a perfectly reasonable and totally sane thing for her to do.

Temple had to disagree.

Unfortunately, it probably wouldn’t have been worth bringing it up even if he had the energy to say so. She was stubborn by nature.

“So,”

Temple pushed the back door of the main structure open, motioning for Tucker to walk ahead of him.

“Is Wash actually not going to let her take the juice packs outside?”

“The Reds tried to fill a kiddie pool with Space Kool Aid jammers once.”

That was both a non answer and an actually feasible explanation. Kind of impressive.

“Yeah but Kais a blue isn’t she? Besides, didn’t you all decide that doesn't matter anyway?”

Tucker didn’t respond, instead stopping in the doorway and glaring at him.

“Go ahead.”

Temple sighed.

“Really man? I hold open the door for you and you still want me to walk ahead of you? You can’t possibly hate me forever.”

Tucker didn’t say anything.

“Forever is a long time to be mad.”

“You’d know.”

Tucker crossed his -  _ really fucking toned - _ arms over his chest.

“Yeah, I would. That’s why I’m saying it. Forever is a REALLY long time to be mad.”

Temple stepped closer to Tucker.

“Listen man, I don’t like this perpetual game of mental chess nearly as much as you do.”

“I thought you loved chess.”

“Chess is only when you’re winning and neither of us are doing anything but dodging each other's pawns on the board. No matter how many times you think one of us has the upper hand we just revert back to our same old dodges and random move patterns. Neither of us have any strategy.”

Tucker huffed slightly.

“What does any of that mean?”

Temple thought about it for a few seconds before sighing heavily and walking out into the yard in front of Tucker, turning back to look at him as he walked towards the spray painted shed.

“I don’t know, I’m not very good at chess. I just like pretending I am. I think it makes me look cooler than I actually am.”

Tucker snorted, throwing his head back.

“I get the feeling you do that a lot.”

“It’s about making someone THINK you’re cool until you feel cool. I didn’t have any friends in high school until I started lying about who I was.”

“I was cool in high school.”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Tucker raised his eyebrow.

“Shoot.”

“I think you’re full of shit, the only person on this entire fucking moon that was cool in high school is probably Sarge and that’s because he went to school before the word for cool was even invented.”

Temple half expected Tucker to hit him but figured he was never going to hold back the mean for long enough to avoid being hit -  _ how far away did the Reds need to put their fucking shed? _

“I bet Wash was cool in high school.”

“He’s tall, blonde and white of course he was cool in high school.”

Tucker barely suppressed a fit of laughter.

“Okay,  _ besides _ that, he gives ‘cool-in-high-school’ vibes.”

“Listen man, I was raised by  _ Uber _ Catholic bible thumpers who didn’t believe in vaccines or holograms, the only ‘cool’ people I ever met were tall, blonde and white and that was mostly because they were all my relatives.”

“Where’d you go wrong?”

Tucker seemed almost playful.

“I said my parents didn’t believe in vaccines right? I was an ungodly sick kid.”

Tucker smirked.

“... You know, sometimes you remind me of someone I used to know.”

“Church, right.”

“Actually I was talking about Texas.”

Temple stopped dead in his tracks.

“... I- I remind you of  _ Texas _ ? H-how?”

Tucker continued on, walking past him like he didn’t realize he'd stopped.

“You’re both kind of... _ awkward _ .”

Temple hissed despite his previous assertion of letting go.

“Texas.  _ Awkward _ .”

“Yeah. I always got the feeling she didn’t know how to be a  _ person _ .”

Part of Temple didn’t want to think about Texas being anything more than a faceless monster with a Optimus Prime voice filter, let alone think of her as a person.

“She never really…”

Tucker stopped in his tracks.

“I never paid attention to it back then but sometimes I feel like she was… sad.”

“Sad?”

“Yeah. I think they both were.”

“Church and Texas?”

Tucker nodded.

“I never paid attention to it back then but… sometimes I think that Church  _ wanted  _ to die. He kept doing it, maybe half hoping one time it’d stick.”

Temple stepped closer to Tucker despite himself.

“Him  _ AND _ Texas.”

Temple - as if overcome with an insanely stupid and primal instinct to comfort - put his hand on Tuckers shoulder.

“You know, you’re going to think yourself to death worrying about what the dead want. They’re dead, they can’t hear you.”

Tucker didn’t shove him off, seeming to forget who he was for a few minutes.

“The dead aren’t here. They’re gone. You can’t bring them back,”

Temple sighed.

“No matter how many people, how much time, however much of your soul you offer up in trade, whatever or whoever's on the other side is never giving them back.”

“Learned that the hard way huh?”

Tuckers voice was a mixture of acid and undertones.

  
“Yeah. I did.”

Tucker didn’t say anything.

He also didn’t push Temple off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *listens to ricky montogmery and cries*
> 
> also i wish everyone a... year
> 
> edit: listen i could talk to death church/temple but i really think what people forget is when it comes to motivation both bgc Tex and pfl Tex are kinda very temple like. Like im not saying that Tex and temple work as a narrative foils - carolina is an obvious foil for temple - but both Tex and pre biff death temple are shown being awkward and sometimes hard to read. theyre both easily made angry and resort to the simple "punch something until it works" method. 
> 
> like Tex is not a Foil of temple and itd be hard to work that angle but both of them are the same kind of person when it comes down to it - awkward and slightly out of place even amoungst peers. temple - while being manipulative sure - is never shown being perfectly fit in with the group, even his own allies. 
> 
> Hes... an awkward dude.
> 
> and so is Tex. 
> 
> church, despite being relatively completely fucking incompetent, is never shown being out of place amoungst the blues. he easily makes people like him. thats Strange to think about but church - while having the charisma of a dead boar - is more likeable and easy to get to know than temple. he wears his emotions on his sleeve and makes genuine conversation with people, something that neither Tex or temple is ever shown doing. 
> 
> after biffs death temple is never shown being open with his emotions or talking about how he feels save for rage. he has the same personality presentation as church sure but hes not nearly as endearing to people. Church is no charmer but hes also considerably more socialable and "easy" to get on with.
> 
> church despite himself does actually have a relatively straight forward and genuine personality. hes a MASSIVE bitch sure but hes, as much as i hate to give the dude anything, the only slightly likeable og BG solider. tucker, sarge, simmons and grif are all like.... shit sandwiches when we meet em. alpha church is a raging sexist and a bully but hes also legitimately more of a friendly person than tucker is and shows an actual affection for Tex and even sometimes caboose. church actually does talk about how feels sometimes and isnt afraid to let himself be a human being - something Tex never does.


	29. temple and kais ambiguously flirtatious shelf adventure part 4 - Tex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no cws

**TEMPLE**

Temple was a big believer in the healing power of awkwardly ignoring things recently opened up about until they went away.

Today's source of distraction was carrying woodworking supplies back into the main building and talking about everyone else on the moon like they were little oddities.

"Has Sarge  _ always _ been like that?"

"Believe it or not he's gotten nicer."

"Never heard of senility doing that to someone."

"It is possible I'm just getting used to him."

"Stockholm syndrome is a helluva drug."

Tucker laughed.

"Maybe he just seemed a lot tougher when I didn't have this bad boy."

Tucker tapped the sword at his side.

"How  _ does _ that work anyway?"

Tucker shrugged.

"It's an alien artifact/key/chick magnet like… Soul bonded to me."

"How many chicks has it magnetized?"

Tucker waved his hand dismissively.

"At least seven! Uh… You shoulda seen the way that Tex looked at it back in the day."

Tex.

He had change the subject before he did a few more murders.

"So, minus  _ Tex _ and the other chicks you've magnetized. Any other gossip around here?"

"Like what?"

"Anything about Grif?"

"You said that fast."

Temple flushed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Did-Did I?"

"You got  _ a crush  _ or something?"

"No! If anyone's got a crush it's  _ Simmons. _ "

"Oh that's a given."

"They should just kiss and get it over with."

Tucker laughed before stopping in front of the door leading to the gym - where Kai had asked them to meet.

"Lotta things people should just get over with."

Temple cocked his head slightly.

"I thought you and Kai made up."

"Not that it's any of your business but we did."

"Then wyy are you so tense?"

"I'm not tense!"

Tucker snapped back at him, tensing up his body as he did.

"Then why are you so  _ tense?" _

Tucker huffed and puffed a few times before groaning and setting down the cut wood.

"It's complicated."

"Everything is! Whatever it is, it's going to just continue to build up forever if you don't say anything. The longer you go, the harder it gets."

"Bow chika bow wow."

Temple snorted.

"That's… Well, it's no more or less immature than what I do."

"What? Murdering?"

"I was more thinking of the ignoring the problem and having bursts of uncontrollable and endless rage but murder does tend to happen there too."

Tucker smiled thinly but didn't say anything.

Good enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> agajwk sorry i just started skool up again so less drive


End file.
